Stroke of Midnight
by TheWritingGirl23
Summary: When romance novelist Kitty travels to Romania to seek out a new story, she unwittingly uncovers a tale of  mystery and forbidden love long buried in the past. ROMY & Kitty-centric, hints of Kiotr. AU, no powers.
1. Chapter I

A/N: Hello everyone, here's yet another one. This is actually one I've been hoping to do for a while now. It's a Romy, and also Kitty-centric, designed along the same story as an app game I have, called the Stroke of Midnight. So the credit for Kitty centric parts is mostly due to the game itself, but I made up a lot of the backstory for the Romy parts myself. So it's a mix of serious parody and my own creation. It's AU with no powers, but I'm sure you'll like it anyway. I'll try to update once a week since it isn't sinfully long. So, let's cease with the rambling and on with the story. I present to you…

_**Stroke of Midnight**_

_**= Chapter I =**_

_At midnight's stroke, the dreaming sleep_

_Of sorrows past and oceans deep._

_The black velvet romance_

_In the darkest hour_

_Let angels advance_

_And demons devour._

_She who waits for the one she loves_

_Will count the final stroke._

_The chime has passed, midnight is gone_

_She is left alone; the dreaming sleep shall fade._

~.~.~.~.~

"Katya, may I come in?"

Katherine Rasputin's head darted up from where it rested on her desk, scattering the papers laid askew over the wooden surface. She swept her messy hair from her face and tried to rearrange the mess.

"Yeah, yeah come in honey," she called back through the door of her study.

The door swung open and Piotr, her husband of a year, entered the room. Kitty smiled faintly. His large and muscular figure always made him look like a giant in the tiny and cluttered room. He sat down on the spinning chair beside her desk. His blue eyes gazed at her sympathetically.

"Are you all right my love?"

With a groan, Kitty's head dropped back to the desk. "No. My life is in chaos. My publisher wants the draft for my newest novel by next month, and I haven't even written anything yet. Everything I come up with is so bland I wouldn't read it in a doctor's office waiting room. On top of that, I promised to help Jean take care of Nathan and Rachel while she's still studying her extra medical training, _and _I'm going to be helping Kurt down at the office with his paperwork all next week. With all this stuff going on and your long work days, we never get a chance to be together anymore." She sighed and leaned over to rest her head on his chest.

Piotr began to gently rub her back as she closed her eyes. "Katya, you are overworking yourself. Don't you think it is time you took a break?"

Kitty cuddled a little closer. "I think you're right. I have some money saved from publishing my last book, but where should I go? I could visit Wanda and John out in Detroit."

Piotr pulled her onto his lap. "I think it would be best if you were on your own. I wish that I could spend time with you, but my work will not permit it. I still believe you would enjoy yourself very much if you got away for a time. You have always spoken about going to Europe."

Kitty thought for a moment until her face lit up slowly. "You know, that's a really good idea. This would be a great time to visit Europe. Yeah…I think that's what I'll do. Thank you for the idea Pete!" She embraced her husband, who grinned. He loved how he could make her happy when she was under so much stress.

"Do you know where you would like to go my darling?"

She smiled even more widely. "I have an idea."

~.~.~.~.~

Kitty breathed deeply, taking in the cool autumn air that was blowing in the window of her rental car. The rolling countryside of the Romanian territory of Transylvania was truly a sight to behold. It had always been a place she had thought to visit as a writer. It was after all the birthplace of Dracula, one of the most famous legends of all time. Maybe her creativity could be reawakened here. She clutched her newly bought notebook to her side. She had purchased it just before leaving America, and it seemed perfect for her excursion. It was old fashioned looking, with a red leather cover and imitation brass decoration. Kitty couldn't wait to see what story would be born between its pages.

She drove on for several hours, admiring fields and forests, with their multitudes of colored leaves. At last she reached the small town of Sighisoara, where she decided to stop for the night. It was a very nice place, quiet but picturesque.

"_Pete was right, I'm so glad I took a break. This place is beautiful. It's a pity I only have a weekend." _Taking in the light golden sunlight on her creamy skinned face, she stepped out of the car and pulled her light bag onto her shoulder. There was a bar across the road and the smells coming from it were enticing.

She entered the place and looked around. The scents of food were even better inside.

Kitty sat herself down at the bar and looked around. Just then a dark haired young man came out from the kitchen wiping a glass dry.

"_Ce pot sa ajung pentru iti lipseste?" _he asked her, leaning on the counter.

"I'm sorry, I don't know much Romanian," she replied, hoping he knew English. Otherwise, she wouldn't be able to order dinner.

"Ah, you speak English. Would you like anything Ms.?" He smiled at her in a friendly way.

"Some soup would be nice; it's a bit chilly out there." The man returned to the kitchen and several minutes later he brought out a steaming bowl. With enthusiasm she tucked in.

The man smirked. "Visiting for zhe scenery?"

Kitty swallowed her latest spoonful of piping hot stew and replied. "Yes and no. I'm a novel writer and I'm here looking for a new story."

"How interesting. I think you will find many intriguing stories in this region, especially the legends surrounding the Dimitruv castle up in the mountains."

Kitty's head snapped up from her meal and her eyes gleamed. "Did I hear castle?"

The man nodded. "It has been abandoned for many decades. It is said that it was once occupied by a wealthy crime family. Few people will go there. Do not worry," he said as he caught her expression. "It is not dangerous, but many find the place very sorrowful. I passed it once at a distance while hiking with my wife. It is a beautiful place, but we did not go near."

"_An old castle in the mountains with a sorrowful air? The muses must be looking out for me," _Kitty thought.

"Where exactly is this place?"

~.~.~.~.~

Kitty drove her car along the road, if it could be called a road that is. It was overgrown and filled with ruts and potholes. Despite the decrepit state of the roadway, she was truly enjoying the drive. Her car wound in and out of forests, passing the occasional lake or stream. Through the gaps in the tree branches she could see the mountains looming higher in front of her. However, Kitty felt a prick of concern when she noted the dark clouds beginning to creep down from the towering heights.

"Please don't rain on me, please don't rain on me," the young writer chanted under her breath as she continued to drive. She hoped she could reach this castle soon, but as the journey grew longer and longer, she began to consider that she might have to turn back. When she passed bodies of water Kitty could see rings rippling out from the few raindrops that had fallen prematurely from the clouds. It could be dangerous to be stuck out here in a storm.

When Kitty finally decided that she would have to return and wait out the storm, the trees broke and she pulled out into clear space. She stared. There it was.

The bartender was right; the castle was a beautiful one. It wasn't of massive height, but the turrets and tower lofts were carved clearly in light gray stone. The oak front doors could be reached by way of a sweeping bridge that spanned a moat-like lake, which in turn surrounded half the castle. Expertly carved statues stood on the bridge and on the ramparts of the walls.

For a while Kitty just stood and admired the place, before a crack of lightning made her jump. The boom of thunder heralded a drenching downpour to follow the tentative drops. Within seconds the brunette was soaking wet. She growled.

"This is one cliché I could have done without," she muttered as she clutched her jacket tightly around her. "It's like someone is writing this out and thought it would be great for the atmosphere. THANK YOU WHOEVER YOU ARE!" Kitty howled into the black sky. Receiving no response she stomped up toward the castle, still muttering about the predictability of her position. It wouldn't be safe to travel back down the mountain in this storm, so staying here in the castle would be the best option.

Reaching the front doors, she proceeded to yank on the iron handles. They didn't budge an inch. Leaning down and squinting through the dark she saw that there was no keyhole, but there did seem to be an intricate lock system connected to the handles. It was strange, like a mixed up puzzle. In frustration, she kicked the door and damned nineteenth century lords and their paranoia under her breath. Her excursion was not going how she had imagined it at all.

Dejected, Kitty trudged soppily back to the car. It looked like she was going to be spending the night in a cold and cramped backseat.

Kitty abruptly whirled in place. She thought she had seen something in her peripheral vision. She stared for a good minute, but nothing moved. She slowly turned back to her car before spinning back almost instantly. She knew she saw it that time, like a flash of orange and purple light over the lake. She stared where she thought she had seen it. Then she noticed that what appeared to be a stepping stone path leading across the pitch black water around to the darkened shore on the other side.

Her curiosity got the better of her, and her wetness and lonely position vanished from her mind. Disregarding the still-falling rain she made her way down the steep bank beside the bridge. The stones weren't large and were slippery. At one point she almost had a swim, her foot dipping in the icy water. After that she nearly flew over the precarious path.

Panting, Kitty arrived on the opposite bank. She could now see what was here. She felt uneasiness when she took in the ancient graveyard in front of her. Rusting iron fences surrounded the grounds and the elaborate tombs stood out starkly. The clouds weren't as thick anymore and the moon was able to shine through somewhat, setting a faint glow over the cemetery.

Kitty shivered, reluctant to move forward. She couldn't see the strange light anymore and had very little intent on going into the graveyard. Instead her eyes caught sight of a tree without leaves standing beside the stone pathway, with a single grave below it surrounded in rock flowers. Strange…it was outside the cemetery. It was worn by time. The carved cherubim and flowers that decorated the stone were chipped. Across the path from the headstone was a small bush with a single lovely flower blooming on it, even in the late season.

Kneeling down, Kitty tried to make out any information carved in the surface. All she could make out was a single name.

"Anna…" she murmured.

Lightning lit up the sky once more, showing the name clearly. It also showed something that hadn't been there before.

With a cry of shock and fear Kitty hurtled backward from the grave, slamming into one of the stone pillars at the cemetery entrance. The light was gone in an instant and she was left momentarily blinded. Gasping, she leaned against the pillar and recalled what she had seen.

In that instant of light, she had seen the shape of a tall young man sitting leaning up against the grave. The image had been pale and transparent, with colors faded, but the shape had been nonetheless distinct. He was a handsome man, with long hair and a muscular physique. But his appearance was not what she had been concerned with. Despite the brief sight, Kitty had seen utter pain on his face, his eyes darkened and broken. They had been downcast as he looked at something in his hand. An agonized whisper echoed mistily through the air.

"_Anna, why?"_

Behind the man's turned back had been another figure: a beautiful young woman in Victorian dress, auburn curls mixed with ebony-white falling in her face. Her pale arms reached out desperately to the man, her green eyes reflecting the same tragic longing that the young man's face held. Her transparent hands were nearly close enough to touch him but he didn't turn. The raw emotion Kitty had felt flowing from them was overwhelming. A burning pain had brazed her throat and chest, and her eyes welled with tears.

Then the flash of light had died and Kitty was alone again. She stood leaning against the pillar and didn't move. What had she just seen? Normally she would have dismissed this to weariness and frustration, but the pain she had felt was all too real. It still hurt inside.

Leaning her head back against the stone she waited for her heartbeat to slow down. Her blue eyes blinked open again momentarily observing the carvings on the stone. Then she pushed off and rushed back across the stones and to her car once again.

For a long time she sat in the driver's seat with the doors locked. When she had finally calmed down enough, Kitty tried to shake herself out of her state.

"Come on, even if you really did see something, it was nothing to be concerned about. It didn't hurt you and it probably wasn't real anyway," she mumbled as she clutched the steering wheel. She reviewed everything she had witnessed, mulling it over. Then she paused, focusing her attention on the brief glimpse of the carving in the pillar. It looked familiar…

Of course! The carving on the pillar had been the same symbol that was mixed up on the door lock. Only it had been properly arranged.

Kitty was gaining her courage back. Steeling herself, she grabbed up her bag from the backseat and climbed from the car again. Running through the rain she reached the door once more. She got to work on rearranging the tiles to match the emblem she had seen.

It took a few minutes, but at last there was a metallic clank and the doors drifted open without the foreboding creak. She slipped in quietly.

The entrance hall must once have been splendid. A many-leveled fountain stood in the center of the room, with carved angels and lions standing like sentries in the corners. A dusty chandelier hung from the ceiling, and two wide staircases led to the second floor. Now the place looked just as a deserted castle should: cobwebs were everywhere, the fountain held dark and dirty water, and the carvings were gloomy and cracked.

The novelist couldn't stop looking around as she softly ascended the stairs. Turning down the left hand hall, she entered a corridor lined with many paintings and mirrors. Her footsteps were muffled by the tattered carpet. She turned into the first room she came to.

Pushing open the double doors, Kitty now found herself in a room that had obviously belonged to a woman, outfitted for what looked like royalty. The colors of the walls and furniture, though faded, were warm and comforting. The round table was covered in boxes of jewelry and decorative hair pieces. A fireplace was situated in one corner, and in the opposite corner was a mirrored bureau. Between them was a large canopied bed heaped with sheets and pillows. A window with decorative colors and designs framing the edges stretched over one wall, with a window seat below it. The place would have a gorgeous view of the grounds.

Instantly, Kitty felt comforted by the place. It felt welcoming. Setting her bag down in a chair she set about making the room more suitable. She found several rotted logs in the wood box beside the hearth, and was soon able to start a cheery little fire. She then stripped the bed of the old moldy sheets and replaced them with a well-preserved comforter she had found in a cupboard.

By the time she was finished, the place felt safe and warm. Changing into sweats, a soft t-shirt, and a sweater, Kitty flopped onto the bed. Flipping on her flashlight, she laid her notebook out in front of her and stared at it. At first, she didn't know what to write. Then her mind drifted back to the melancholy presences outside the cemetery. Whether they had been real or just a figment of her imagination, they stirred the creativity within her. Before she knew it, her lucky blue pencil was scratching out words on the pages.

She didn't know how long she had been writing, when chimes made themselves heard. Kitty raised her head and listened. It was quite impressive that the clocks still worked in this castle. There were many of them too, chimes ranging from tiny pings of sound to great distant booms far off in the castle halls. Eleven o' clock. Kitty felt her eyes drooping. With a yawn, she decided she had written enough for now. Setting the flashlight and notebook aside she blew out the candle on her bedside table and nestled beneath the covers. The pattering of rain against her window and the last tolls of the clocks lulled her, until her eyes finally closed and allowed sleep to caress her into dreamless slumber.


	2. Chapter II

_**Stroke of Midnight**_

_**= Chapter II =**_

Kitty snuggled into her warm pillows, moaning softly. She could hear murmuring.

"Hmmm...That's nice Petey, but 'm sleepy..." The murmuring stopped. She sighed and rolled over.

A loud male voice, sounding as if it came from a distance, echoed through the room. _"Anna?"_

Kitty bolted up in bed and shrank against the headboard, trembling violently. The voice died as soon as it had called the name and silence fell. Kitty remained frozen, waiting for anymore sounds coming from the other side of the double doors. She was expecting a rattling boom from them like in The Haunting movie. But it remained dead quiet.

Cautiously, she eased out from under the covers and tiptoed to the doors. She reached forward, about to check if the hallway was really empty. She couldn't open the doors. Kitty pulled harder, anxious now. She knew she hadn't locked the doors when she came in. Maybe they had locked automatically when she had closed them.

She turned back to the room, attempting to sort her thoughts. The fire was still reasonably bright, so she couldn't have been asleep for long, less than an hour probably. Nothing else seemed to have changed. The mirror on the bureau was reflecting the fire's light and casting golden flickers about the room. It was relaxing.

Yet, as she looked closer Kitty thought the reflections didn't look right. The wavering shapes didn't match the twisting flames in the fireplace.

"What in the world?" she said as she approached. As she grew nearer, the shapes became more clearly defined, forming themselves into red-golden words. Kitty's mouth dropped as she stared at the words forming a couplet.

"_**Ancient ghosts **_

_**Have much to tell.**_

_**Solve the puzzles,**_

_**Break the spell."**_

"I'm dreaming. This can't be real. The mirror is talking to me," Kitty said quietly. It was just too uncanny. And yet…she had seen those shapes in the graveyard, and heard that voice outside of her door. This couldn't all be nothing more than a dream. Whether or not this was some eerie dream, it had her attention captured. She moved even closer, expecting the words to disappear any moment. Instead, the surface changed again to reflect something that couldn't have otherwise been seen in the mirror outside of these strange circumstances. It was an image of the bedside table on the opposite side of the bed.

Curious despite the almost supernatural nature of what was happening, Kitty turned and moved around the bed towards it. It looked just as it had when she first entered the room. There was only one drawer. She tried to pull it open but found it stuck.

"Why is everything so hard to open in this place?" Kitty mused, feeling annoyed. Finding a sharp letter opener lying on the floor she jammed it into the small gap, wrenching the drawer open.

"Ow! God!" she cried. The cut on her finger oozed bright droplets of blood. Kitty sucked on it furiously, peering into the drawer and hoping that whatever was in there was worth the sting.

It was empty except for several scraps of paper. Feeling disappointed and more than a little cheated, Kitty shuffled through the scraps trying to find something. Nothing could be found. That's when she noticed that the scraps had writing on them in faded ink. She eagerly pulled them out and tried to decipher what they said.

She soon realized that the pieces belonged to two different sheets of parchment. Kitty managed to put the first light yellow sheet of parchment together, and then leaned in to see it better. It was very old: the edges were frayed and crumpled, and the ink had faded. Several moisture spots marred the writing, making it only just possible to read. With eagerness she proceeded to assemble the pieces, hoping that the letter wasn't written in a foreign language. Thankfully, the script was a neat, curling composition in English. The farther Kitty read, the more intrigued she became.

_Dear Remy,_

_I have done my best to forget about you, yet still your voice lingers in my mind. Each time we meet it gets harder and harder to part. This is why I must ask that we never speak again._

_It was a mistake to let my feelings for you grow into anything more than childish affection._

_I wish there was some way for us to be together, but we both know this can never be. Please let me go, and I will do my best to do the same. I wish you the best with your future wife._

_ Truly sorry,_

_ Anna_

Kitty's romantic writer's mind was racing. Here, in this letter alone, she had found an all new story and a love triangle at that. Her thoughts flew back outside. Anna had been the name on the headstone excluded from the graveyard, and the name that the voice had called for. Could this be the same Anna? She turned to the next letter to see if it revealed any more of this newly uncovered story. It seemed like a rewrite of the first letter; it was much shorter.

_Dear Remy,_

_This will be the last letter I write to you. _

_Only pain lies ahead for us and our families if we continue this any longer. The arrangements have been made. You must follow through. I wish you the best with your future wife._

_It would be best for us not to meet again._

_ Anna_

It seemed that Anna had still been unsatisfied by this result for it too had been torn apart. Kitty stood again, mulling over her discoveries. Her eyes fell on her notebook that still rested on the bedside table. She pulled it out and gently placed the letters between the pages. She began to write.

_When I came here, I didn't expect my idea to be given to me like this. The mirrors are speaking to me, and I've found letters sent to a man named Remy by a heartbroken lover. I know that this Anna is the owner of that headstone outside. Now I just have to find out what happened._

Closing the notebook and replacing it to its former spot, her eyes caught the mirror again. It read "_**Keys**____**to**____**secrets**____**are**____**stored**____**locked.**__**"**_ When she looked closely, the picture of the bedside table had been replaced with the picture of a locked jewelry box.

Looking around, she found the match to the picture sitting on the window seat across the room. Kitty hastened over and sat down. It was a pretty work of art. It was carved from a red-brown wood as smooth as glass. The lock system was rather like the one on the door outside, except instead of tiles there were patterned rings. These were mismatched, but Kitty knew how to do this now. She rearranged the rings until the pattern matched. She was rewarded by a soft click and the lid slowly lifted.

Inside the box, resting on a red silk cushion was a single dried flower bloom. Kitty recognized it as a Rose-hip, and also as the same type of flower that had been on the bush beside Anna's grave. It was a perfect bud, the dried petals preserved as if it had been cut from the branch only hours before.

Enchanted, Kitty reached out a tentative fingertip to touch the beautiful thing. She was utterly unprepared for what happened when she did.

_April 14th 1864_

_The day was perfect, quiet and peaceful. Spring sunshine bathed the well-trimmed grounds of the castle. Birds sang and the delicious scents of the blooming flowers painted colors in the air. The window was opened in one of the upstairs rooms, allowing the cool breeze to lift the gossamer curtains from stagnancy, sending them dancing over the room in rippling flutters. A fire flickered in the hearth to negate any unwanted chill from the comfortable bedroom._

_Sitting on the window seat was a solitary girl, the breeze gently lifting her auburn and white curls away from her pretty face. She wore a simple cream-colored dress, offset by her emerald eyes and necklace. _

_Despite the beauty of the day, this girl's mood was anything but bright. The castle was quiet and devoid of any others, they had all gone out on a hunting party, but she preferred it this way. If she was alone then she would be able to sort through her turmoil of feelings and emotions._

_Anna reprimanded herself. She knew what she felt and what should be done, but it was too painful to face. She looked down at the blank sheet of parchment below her porcelain hands. She knew she was taking the coward's way out: writing a note instead of facing him like she should. But she just couldn't. Anna knew she wouldn't be strong enough to look into his mesmerizing eyes and say what needed to be said. So instead she tried to escape the inevitable._

_Tears fell unwittingly from her eyes as she wrote her first attempt. Finishing it, she examined it and then tore it apart. It showed too much of her true feelings. If he caught even the slightest hint of hesitation, the tiniest notion that she wanted nothing more to belong to him and him alone, he would pursue her, the consequences be damned. That man had always been too stubborn for his own good. So she tried again with a fresh sheet._

_The end result of her second attempt was still not enough. Leaning back against the window sill she closed her eyes, thinking about the years they had known each other and everything before. Anna couldn't see her life without him anymore. Yet now that was what she was being forced to face: to see the man she loved be wedded to another. But she had no choice in the matter, and she must accept it before it broke her._

_Her eyes dried now, for she had no more tears to shed, she began her third attempt. This time, she allowed her emotion and feeling pour into this, displaying her regret but also her firm determination to follow through with the fate neither of them wished to meet._

_Finishing she read it. She smiled bitter sweetly. This was the one. She sighed, trying to hold on to the faint closure she felt, little comfort though it was. _

_Anna's ears caught the sound of hoof beats approaching, and laughter. The castle inhabitants had returned and she would be required to attend dinner. Anna gently folded the letter and placed it in the pocket of her dress. Before leaving, she strode over to her mirrored bureau. On it was a vase that held a single flower, her flower. She smiled, remembering the first flower her beloved had ever given her. _

_Drawing the flower from the vase she broke of the long stem and cradled the perfect bud in one hand. Walking back to the window seat she drew her jewelry box toward her. Anna laid one kiss on the soft petals before placing the bloom upon the cushion. She then closed the lid and strode purposefully from the room, never once looking back._

_The Present_

The moment Kitty's fingertip touched the flower bud it dissolved into a cloud of magenta sparkles. Just then a great boom of some mighty clock just about shook the castle, followed shortly by the accompanying chimes of many other smaller clocks. Twelve strikes began to toll. As the midnight hour was declared, a pale blue-white light grew in the center of the room.

Kitty slowly backed away from the window seat, watching as the light grew brighter and larger, until it formed a distinct human shape.

The pale woman she had seen outside the cemetery who she was now sure was Anna, sat herself on the window seat, staring down at transparent parchment held beneath her hand. Her face was melancholy and torn. Kitty could feel what this apparition was feeling. She felt sadness, longing, desperation, and indecision.

The shade leaned over and began to write. When it was finished the ghost appeared unsatisfied and shredded the letter. Her second attempt met the same fate. On her third try, Anna's image at last seemed appeased. She placed the finished letter in the pocket of her dress. Kitty continued to observe as the image retrieved the Rose-hip flower from a nearby vase and placed it in her jewelry box, blessing it with a single kiss. The vision then turned and began to leave the room. For a brief moment, Anna's pale eyes met Kitty's. The young author gasped and shivered, the emotions she was feeling intensifying greatly. There was no recognition in the phantom's gaze as her head turned away once more and she faded from the room.

Kitty remained frozen. This was incredible. This kind of thing only happened in the kind of books she enjoyed writing. She still wasn't sure if she was dreaming or not, but whatever this experience was, it was vivid enough for it not to matter much.

She had found her story; the only question she had to ask was whether she was willing to pursue it or not. Kitty felt an instinctual apprehension, her body telling her that this wasn't natural and she should avoid where this might lead. But her curiosity and writer's mind and heart were telling her that this was the opportunity of a lifetime. She knew too much, and if she backed out now this story would haunt her for the rest of her life. She glanced to the mirror and saw the new words formed on it. _**"**__**Follow**____**Anna.**__**"**_

With an intake of breath, Kitty fetched her flashlight from her desk, slipped on some warm boots and approached the door the ghost had disappeared through. The key was in the lock. She knew it hadn't been there before. Her hand rested unsure on the handle for a moment, before with a surge of will, she pulled the door open and stepped into the hallway.

Her story had truly begun.


	3. Chapter III

A/N: I hope you're all enjoying this little tale so far. Friday is now my official update day for this story, so you are within your rights to flame me if I'm late getting the next chapter up. From here on out, the present parts will be told from Kitty's point of view. Well, here's the next chapter.

_**Stroke of Midnight **_

_**= Chapter III =**_

The moment I passed through the doors they swung shut behind me and closed softly, but did so with a solid finality. There was no turning back now. I looked around. The hallway strangely wasn't as dark as it had been when I first entered the castle, but I couldn't detect any additional light source. I tucked my flashlight away since it was no longer needed. Also, the hallway seemed less dusty and rank. Cobwebs still hung from the paintings and the carpets were still stained, but the absolute dreariness seemed to have been wiped away. Through the stained glass window at the end of the hallway, I could still hear the pattering of raindrops as the storm continued to thunder outside.

Then I cursed. "My notebook!" I turned back to get it, but the doors were once again locked. Feeling slightly concerned, I turned down the hallway towards the stairs. I walked far longer than I expected to, until she found myself back outside Anna's bedroom doors. I had gone in a circle. Now worried, I tried every door along the hallway but none would budge. There was no way out!

"Easy Kitty, calm down. This happened in the bedroom as well. Let's just try and figure this out," I said to myself.

So I walked down the hallway again, much more casually this time, glancing about for clues. Then a golden wavering light caught my eye and drew it to a mirror on the wall. It was showing the same fiery letters as in the bedroom mirror, but here there was no fire to reflect. Beneath the mirror on a small, decorative table laid my notebook. It had followed me?

Approaching to take it I saw the letters in the mirror realign themselves into another set of words.

"_**Time stands still**_

_**While faces mixed.**_

_**Find father's will**_

_**Once order's fixed."**_

"What the…" was all I could say. "Could you be a bit more specific?" Surprisingly, the mirror cooperated.

"_**These noble ones**_

_**Must rearrange.**_

_**The dates, move none,**_

_**But portraits change."**_

So the mirror was telling me to rearrange the paintings on the wall? I stepped back to look at them. There were many of them all the way down the hall. Below each painting was what looked like a solid gold plate with several inscriptions engraved on the surfaces. But there were so many of them. How was I supposed to fix them all?"

The mirror once again decided to take pity and gave me a clue.

"_**Key to masters**_

_**Long at rest,**_

'_**Twixt pages lie **_

_**The answers best."**_

Now I thought she was getting the hang of this. The answer to this riddle could be found in a book. So I proceeded to scour the hallway up and down for anything that could help me in the mystery.

There was only one bookcase along the walls. Balancing a small wobbling chair precariously against the towering wooden frame, I scanned the shelves, drawing out each volume and perusing it carefully. Pulling out one particularly thick tome with gold-embossed lettering, I opened the pages. Finding it promising, I read attentively. It was inscribed in several different languages, so I searched for the English translation.

_Since the founding of our father Guilds, under the direction of the immortal Candra, the genealogical records of the high families and Guilds masters has become a revered tradition. Lest we forget the deeds of our leaders, past and present, the official scribes preserve the lines of masters through every branch of the Guilds. In additional dedication, our ruling fathers are depicted in their official portraits to be hung in every central house. They are identified by name, date of instatement as Master, their branch among the enterprise, and the dedicated name bestowed at death that represents their deeds in life. Further detail on the leadership under each master can be found in the private volumes held exclusively within every Guild house. _

"The guy wasn't kidding when he mentioned these people being crime families; they were spread all over the world." I looked up from the book. I moved closer to the wall to examine the gold plates and the writing on them.

_Philippe Chevalier, 1872, Thieves' Guild Paris, the Righteous One._

_Alexandre Dimur, 1799, Thieves' Guild Bucharest, the Hammer._

_Eduardo de Vez, 1810, Thieves' Guild Bel__em, the Leopard._

Each portrait had plates like this hung below them just as the book had said. Now knowing what to do, I set to work.

"Thank goodness I'm good at history. And fashion." Using my extensive knowledge of different eras and their clothing styles, as well as several convenient hints within the portraits themselves, I began to rearrange them. When I correctly set the first painting, it seemed to glow. The colors turned vibrant once again, the picture was clear, and all traces of dust were removed.

Even with the clues I had gained, it took me ages to properly set the pictures. At last, with sweat trickling down my neck and a crick in my back, I was down to one last portrait. I couldn't help but examined it. The portrait was a magnificent portrayal of a regal man. He sat, erect and poised, in a fine armchair. His long hair was pulled back at the nape of his neck and he had a well-trimmed mustache. The gray eyes were keen even in a painting. He seemed like a man who could command attention with just the slightest word or gesture. In the picture with him were two small boys curled up asleep at his feet like puppies. The man's gaze rested on them with a stern but deep affection. The plate beneath where this portrait was meant to be hung read

_Jean Luc Lebeau, 1828, Thieves' Guild New Orleans, the Father._

"Okay, let's see what happens now." The painting was fitted to the wall among its equals.

I jumped as chimes boomed out again, beginning to strike twelve times again.

"_What the heck? It already struck midnight."_ But my bewilderment was cut off as another light like back in the bedroom began to take form. This one wasn't Anna though.

_February 2__nd__ 1863_

_The young man strode down the hallway that was hardly inhabited normally, but his feet drew him there instinctively. This place called to him in a way that he almost believed that if he were to come here at the right time, he would find Anna waiting for him. He tugged uncomfortably at the formal clothes he had been forced to wear for the ceremony, wishing again that he could speak to the lovely girl. She had been there when his world had been tipped from alignment before, and Remy didn't doubt she could offer him guidance in this even greater alteration to his world._

_Even if Remy hadn't had the best relationship with his foster father, Jean-Luc had always been a constant in his life since he had been brought among the Guild ranks. His disciplinary and strict ways, despite rubbing the rebellious Remy the wrong way most of the time, had been an anchor for the young man in ways he hadn't known until now. He couldn't quite believe that the regal Guild master was gone. _

_He was glad to be alone now. The funeral had been too solemn and stifling for him. Remy was especially glad to escape the scrutiny of the many Guild dignitaries and important figures attending. When they received the news that Jean-Luc had died of heart attack while on a hunting excursion, Remy hadn't seemed to have reacted much. He went through the motions: preparing the burial ceremony, settling the affairs along with his brother, and accepting the words of the many mourners and colleagues. Jean-Luc had been patron of his Guild for over thirty years after all, and he was well-known. Remy's behavior of seemingly uncaring had attracted many inquiries, people wondering why he showed such little reaction to his father's death as they offered condolences. The reason was something he could never explain, so he avoided the question and escaped when he could. Only his brother could claim to at least partially understand how he felt, but no one fully understood…except for her. But she was far away, and for now, he was on his own._

_Remy sighed faintly and leaned back against the wall, one heel propped up against the wooden border. He pulled a bundle of papers from an inner pocket of his expensive jacket and began to rifle through them: his father's final business. Most were letters for gratification of service, payments of several debts, and bequeathals to various heirs. Then he uncovered an envelope of expensive parchment, sealed with red ink and his father's personal seal. It was addressed to him._

_Remy's interest raised a little and he began to open it. It was probably last minute instructions or lectures that his father hoped to cram into his head before the late master was laid to rest for good. He withdrew a letter written in Jean-Luc's firm and elegant script._

"_My beloved son,_

_Since you first came into our family, I have taken great care in planning your future, and it is with great pride that I propose my last arrangement for your life._

_I have spoken with Marius, and he has agreed to offer you his daughter's hand in marriage. Upon watching you dance at the New Year's ball, we are certain that you will be happy together."_

_Remy's eyebrows shot up toward his hairline and a delightfully surprised smile threatened to break out over his face. He remembered that dance three years ago. He recalled the shapely figure that he had held in his arms as they danced. Remy's focus drifted as he fantasized about rich amber hair with streaks of ivory, and of eyes as bright and beautiful as emeralds. _

_At last he managed to shake himself out of his reminiscence and he continued to eagerly read the letter._

"_Once Belladonna reaches the age of 21, please carry out my wishes and unite two ancient families, long known as rivals, as one._

_ Your Father,_

_ Jean-Luc"_

_Remy's heart, so light and giddy just a moment before, dropped to his toes as his mouth fell open and his eyes grew wide in horror. He dropped the letter as if it burned him._

"_Belladonna…" he trailed off quietly. How had this happened?_

_He straightened up abruptly, the letter forgotten on the hall table beside where he stood. Pivoting on his heel he strode swiftly down the hallway. He needed to find his brother._

_The Present_

I watched as the light formed into the same young man I had seen outside. Since I knew more of the story, I was positive this was Remy, the one Anna had written her letters to. True to my assumptions from my previous brief glimpse, he was very handsome. His shape was a good deal taller than me, with long and fine hair and the kind of face any woman would swoon over. Despite the pale discoloration, I could tell that his hair was russet colored and his skin was well tanned.

As the scene unfolded, the man's image leaned up against the wall and absently began to read various documents, his attention wandering periodically. Then the eyes of the man snapped to attention as he opened and read a particular letter. His face suddenly lit up like that of a child on Christmas, before the expression almost instantly dropped. It was replaced with a horrified mask of disbelief. He continued to stare before dropping the letter and spinning about to disappear down the hallway and out of sight.

I stood motionless until a flash from the mirror revealed new words.

"_**Father's will must be obeyed." **_

My eyes fell to a piece of paper lying on the end table that hadn't been there before. It must have been left by the vision. Picking it up, I read the words.

So this was the cause of Anna's distraught letters. The name of Remy's wife-to-be was named Belladonna. I was now fully absorbed into the castle's tale. I turned to look down the hallway where Remy had disappeared. The mirror flashed again.

"_**Remy has much more to tell."**_

Tucking the page of the will into the pages of my retrieved journal, I followed the path of the echo to the next stage.

"Much more to tell I'll say; and I want to hear more."


	4. Chapter IV

**Please don't lynch me for not updating on Friday like a said I would. I offer you a long chapter as a peace treaty.**

_**Stroke of Midnight**_

_**= Chapter IV =**_

The further I traveled into the great castle, the more enchanted I became. My footsteps made light taps as I made my way down intertwining hallways. I wasn't quite sure how I knew which way to go, but my gut seemed to tell me where to go. I passed doorways to many rooms: drawing rooms, guest bed chambers, and trophy rooms. Magnificent paintings and tapestries with gilded frames lined the walls. Like the hallway upstairs, the further I went the brighter and livelier the place became. But while it had been passively noticeable upstairs, now it was obvious that that castle interior was changed. It seemed so _alive_ now that I almost expected people to appear around every corner I turned. Nearly all cobwebs and dust had vanished, and the dark shadows that had been hunkered in the corners had been banished in place of a healthy golden light. It looked so different from the overall desolate picture of the castle outside. I felt as though I were delving deeper into the past with each step I took.

After many twists and turns, I finally rounded one last corner and stopped. I had arrived at my destination, knowing the moment I entered. It was a ballroom. Balconies formed a second floor ring around the room. I had entered through a door opening into a raised section bordered with marble rails and pillars, where people who weren't dancing could mingle without cluttering the area. A beautiful antique harpsichord stood in the corner. A small set of marble steps lead down to the smooth polished dance floor. Alcoves draped with blood-red velvet curtains ringed the vast room. Leaning over the railing, I craned my neck upward and observed a vibrantly painted ceiling adorned with a crystal chandelier.

I scanned the room, looking for a guiding mirror. I found a large ornate mirror hanging on the wall beside the harpsichord, bearing more words.

"_**At Midnight's stroke,**_

_**The ball is held:**_

_**The phantoms spoke **_

_**Once music swelled."**_

Below my booted feet a blue-white glow emitted, forming the shape of a ghostly clock. Midnight. Everything in the castle seemed to happen at midnight. I opened my notebook and jotted in words as I recalled every event in this possible dream. _The first stroke of midnight I heard must have been a kind of trigger that showed me the events of the castle's past._

I looked down at the clock again. Bending down I lightly touched the twelve, wondering whether it would trigger the next midnight chime. The moment I brushed my finger against the clock a sound rang out, but it wasn't a clock toll.

_December 30__th__ 1859_

_The frosted and peaceful silence of the woodland that climbed the slopes to the mountainous heights was the reigning presence in the secluded area. This particular chill day was the exception to that rule of the forest. The faint clopping of horses' hooves and the creak of wooden wheels drifted through the trees as the two carriages rolled out of the woods and pulled to a halt at the entrance to the castle bridge. _

_The side door was opened and a tall man stepped out. He wore expensive but simple clothing, and his long brown hair was tied back. His breath smoked in the air as he gazed up at the great castle in all its impressiveness. _

_Behind him, a second man who looked like a younger copy of the former with pale blonde hair climbed from the carriage, his face a faint shade of green. _

"_Dat's it. After bumping 'round in a carriage for a few months, on top o' several weeks on a rockin' ship, I'd sooner walk de rest o' dis trip den get back in dat t'ing." _

_The older man allowed a smirk to cross his face. "We'll get y' something for dat stomach o' yours when we get inside Henri." He then turned to the second carriage and opened the door courteously for the occupants. The first to climb out was a delicate and innocent-faced brunette, who rushed to join the queasy Henri. The second was a time-worn woman with brown skin, laugh lines, and sparkling brown eyes that danced with laughter and wisdom. The man offered her a long fingered hand and helped her down, a grin on his face despite her grumbling. _

"_Don't know how y' convinced dis old femme t' get dragged on dis fou trip Jean-Luc. I'll never get m' land legs back for de life o' me."_

"_Now Tante, y' know y' wouldn't have been left behind for de world wit' no famille t' tend to. 'Sides, it's better here den wit' de rowdy boys back home all t' y'self."_

_The old woman muttered something in French and might have crossed herself, before her eyes swept their tiny gathering._

"_Aren't you missin' someone?"_

_Jean-Luc glanced around and then sighed. He walked back to his own carriage and faced the half open door. _

"_Remy, you're sulkin' like a six year old. Get out here." _

"_Not my idea to come here in de first place," groused a husky voice. The owner of the voice stepped reluctantly from the darkness in the carriage. It was a tall young man with shoulder length auburn hair and a lean muscled build. His eyes were an odd amber-brown color, that when caught by the sun they gleamed in a way that made them look almost ruby red. His stubble-brushed face was twisted in a childish sulk. Jean-Luc gazed in a reprimanding way at his second son before turning away to speak to Henri and his wife._

_Remy growled quietly, before he tugged at the uncomfortable collar of his expensive clothing. His hand was slapped away by the elder woman._

"_Now don't go messin' wit' your nice suit chil'. Honestly, you been as fidgety as y' were ten years ago when y' first came t' us."_

_Normally, Remy would have replied with a smirk and a mischievous glib, trying to get back in her good books. Ever since he had been brought off the streets of New Orleans to join the family, Tante had always favored him. No matter how old he grew, he knew she still saw him as the little boy she helped to raise. Now though, he just shrugged and turned away, grumbling about the cold as Jean-Luc called the family forward and across the bridge to the front gates._

_They were greeted warmly by a dark haired man with a broad smile, the leader of the Romanian Thieves' Guild. He welcomed them first in Romanian and then English and he made amiable speech with Jean-Luc as the New Orleans family was ushered inside. The servants directed the guests to their different rooms where they could rest and unpack. The winter was setting in fully, and the guild master wouldn't be able to continue his travels for several fortnights yet._

_The young man Henri, after settling into the room he shared with his wife Mercy, headed down the hall to enter his brother's room. Said brother was stalking about the room and unpacking in a displeased slouch. Henri flopped down on the luxurious bed and put his arms behind his head._

"_Don't know why y' even bother Remy. We're here now, and for a long while yet, an' sulkin' isn't gonna do y' much good."_

"_Jus' cause Remy was dragged along on dis stupid excursion doesn't mean he has t' like it. Why did père have t' drag us all along anyway?" _

"_Un: because I'm de prime heir to de Guild an' Mercy's m' wife; deux, Tante would've been miserable left behind; and trois, père couldn't leave y' behind cause we might come home an' find de Guild house blown away. He'll never say it, mais Jean-Luc is none too comfortable wit' dose chemical experiments y' like to do."_

"_What's wrong wit' 'em? It's interestin', dey make good fireworks, and I could save de Guild loads if we could make our own explosives."_

_Henri nodded. "I'm not sayin' dey wouldn't, but some o' us just don't get your fascination wit' making things blow up." Remy just rolled his eyes and turned away._

_He wanted to explain to Henri what exactly was bothering him about this journey. It was just Guild business: the father guilds traveling the European branches to make sure everything was in order, but it didn't sit well with him. Everything about this journey was against his lifestyle. He was used to simple pants and shirt when he wore anything, instead of these stiff dignitary getups. Henri was the elder brother and attended most business, leaving Remy free to roam the streets, bayous, and rooftops of the place he knew like the back of his hand. Now though, being separated from the city where he had been born and raised, he felt a longing to return to it. The moment he had stepped on the departing ship he had felt a gloom settle over him, as he watched the shores of his home receding into the distance. Maybe coming here wouldn't have been such a bad thing if he had been allowed to on his own terms: a wild and reckless adventure over the European countries, pulling fantastic heists and then disappearing without a trace. But instead, he was forced along on a trip where they would be locked in stuffy conference rooms for most of the time, bowing and scraping to the other guild masters. He frowned._

_Henri saw the forlornness on his little brother's face and felt sympathy. He stood and clapped the younger man on the shoulder._

"_Cheer up frère. Y' can at least enjoy some time on dis trip. After all, de New Year's ball is tomorrow night. Hey, maybe Cristian will let y' make some fireworks for de celebration. I hear dey got some spare space in de basements for a lab. Y' can make 'em an' not have Tante yelling 'bout those chemical smells."_

_Remy allowed a small smile. Although the dreariness had yet to recede, his brother always managed to lift his spirits, if only slightly. He allowed Henri to pull him from the room and downstairs._

_The Present_

I heard a swift clatter of light running footsteps, an echoing gasp, and a crash was heard directly behind me. I whipped around and saw a silver tray on the floor, a shattered glass pitcher, and several other objects scattered about.

Crawling over, I examined the mess. The tray was beautifully carved, but didn't seem very interesting. Instead, I picked up the other items on the floor.

They just seemed to be random junk: a rusty key, a scroll of paper, and a strange wooden knob. I sat down on the seat beside the harpsichord and wondered the next answer to this newest puzzle. I started with the key. I wandered the room and searched for anything that would fit it. At the end of the ballroom and partially hidden behind a curtain was a large wooden door, but the keyhole was way too big for the tiny silver key that I held in my hand.

Discouraged, I headed back to the entrance of the ballroom. I went over to the mirror, hoping it would help me like it had upstairs.

"How about another hint?"

This time, the décor opted to be stubborn. The former words remained flickering in the glass. So I examined the words closer, hoping to find some meaning in them.

"At midnight's stroke, the ball is held; the phantoms spoke once music swelled… Phantom's spoke once…" It hit me like a brick. I turned around to face the harpsichord. Above the ivory and Blackwood keys was a simple keyhole.

My fingers flashed as the key twisted smoothly and the click was heard. The top opened up to display the insides of the beautiful instrument. It was at this time that I finally turned to the other few objects in my hand. The knob was delicately carved and the paper was stained with age. By now I understood.

I found the empty setting where the tuning knob could be set among the strings, and I set the parchment above the keys. I was a little nervous as I tuned the harpsichord. I had taken piano classes before, but I had never been phenomenal. I settled into the seat, taking a deep breath. I wondered what would happen if I butchered the music. Would the castle walls start closing in on me, or spit me out into the raining night outside? My fingers hesitated before they lay on the keys.

_Remy leaned up against the balustrade that separated the dance floor from the section used for socializing. The New Year's celebration was settling into full swing, and the servants were still hanging the last decorations and setting out chairs for weary dancers._

_It reminded him mournfully of the celebration that would take place in several hours back home in New Orleans. He longed to be there. If he closed his eyes he could picture it. Every year, the party was held on a grand riverboat that would float through the deeper canals in the velvet black night. It was the only time of the year that the Thieves and Assassins guilds could get along without risk of a bloodbath breaking out. The boat would be decked in lights, with lively music floating down the rivers from the deck. It would last long into the night as he would dance with the ladies, and compete in drinking games with Henri and his friends. Here, things felt too different. Everything was so refined and proper, something he hadn't often had to worry about back home. All these well-bred dignitaries from both the Romanian Thieves and Assassins guilds made him feel out of place and uncouth. _

_Remy heard a gasp and a crash behind him, and he turned to see a tiny servant girl, no older than eleven, sprawled on the floor with a tray and broken pitcher beside her. She had slipped on the last stair and fallen. He could hear the many people around muttering and glaring at the girl and he felt indignant. Walking to her he knelt down wordlessly and helped the scrambling girl to clean the mess. When he lowered beside her she looked shocked, but said nothing._

"_Here y' go petite, no harm done," he said as he swept the last of the shards onto the tray and handed it back to her with a kind smile. _

_She stuttered and lowered her head. "Th-thank you, milord." She flashed a sweet smile of gratitude before scampering off to the kitchen. _

_Remy stood and dusted himself off before he heard his name being called. Weaving his way through the growing crowd of people, he joined his family as his father spoke to a familiar face. Marius Boudreaux, patriarch of the New Orleans Assassins nodded to his rival's son with curt politeness, and then continued to speak with Jean-Luc. _

"_De business has been goin' well Jean-Luc, as I hope your's is as well."_

"_O' course. Never de less, I'm goin' t' miss de Crescent city. Five years is gonna be a long time t' be away from it."_

_Marius nodded understandably. The work before them in Europe was no small task, and it would be quite a few seasons before the crossed the sea to their homeland once more._

_Remy tuned out the conversation that was mostly formalities, instead casting his gaze over the small company standing respectfully behind Marius. He saw Marius' wife Colette, seeming just as prim and refined as always. Slightly behind the master and his wife was a tall blonde man, not as quite as tall as Remy but with a thicker build. This was Julian, the prime heir to the Assassins, and his fiancée. Then was there was the family beauty, Belladonna Boudreaux. She was a sight that would attract any applicable attention in a room with her glittering dress and shimmering golden hair, styled into a precarious up do. _

_Then Remy caught sight of a face he had never seen before among the Assassins' ranks. He studied her curiously; fascinated by the beauty she held that was so different from that of Belladonna's fancy flair. _

_The girl was still young; the rosiness of childhood still barely tinting her cheeks, but her face was that of a woman. She was slim and delicately curved, with creamy skin that flushed brighter in the candle light in the ballroom. Her face was angular, with a tapering nose, full lips painted red and wide green eyes that sparkled like emerald stars. Her hair, unlike Belladonna's, hung loose in waves and curls of smoky auburn. Mixed in with the darker strands, she had streaks of white juxtaposing the normal color framing her face. Unlike most of the other women in this room, her dress wasn't extravagant but complimented her perfectly. The hugging bodice was forest green with a scooped neckline trimmed with pearls. The lace sleeves reached down to her elbows while her A-line skirts flowed down from her waist in cream-colored ruffles._

_Remy discreetly took in the appearance, curiosity gnawing at him as he wondered who this strange girl was. At about this time Jean-Luc also noticed the newcomer._

"_An' who might dis belle young woman be Marius? Don't think I've ever seen her before."_

_Marius brought the girl forward as she dipped her head respectfully to the King of Thieves. "Dis is Anna Marie Darkholme, but as of seven months ago she is now a Boudreaux. Her __m__è__re__, Raven Darkholme, did good work for our guild. Sadly, she passed on at de dawn of the year, and her last request of payment was that we'd accept her daughter into our ranks."_

_Jean-Luc took the young woman's hand and placed a kiss upon it. "Welcome to de guilds Ms. Darkholme. May you find success in de years t' come." The well wish was repeated among the thieves. _

"_Thank y' Monsieur Lebeau, the same t' you and your family." She then humbly stepped back. _

_At this time, Cristian Dimitruv and the Romanian Assassin lord joined Marius and Jean-Luc. Discussion became business and the families were dismissed to enjoy the party as they would._

_Remy for his part, stayed to the outskirts, drifting surreptitiously around the room and refilling his wine glass. He enjoyed a party as any young Prince of Thieves would, but this was just too refined and tame for him. This caused him to quickly turn in the other direction or force conversation should the young court ladies approach him. He hoped that by remaining low he might avoid attention, but his hopes were ill-founded. His attractive appearance, added to his foreign origins, guild and familial status, he had become a popular target for the eager young women. _

_Like parties, Remy liked his women as much as the next man, but again these weren't the kind that he favored. He preferred the fiery Southern women in New Orleans, whose tongues were as sharp as their dangerous personalities. The street girls of his city had led to many wild nights, and he basked in their independence as much as he did in their beauty. These women, raised as aristocrats, seemed like brightly painted puppets in comparison. The only topics of conversation they knew were marriage, gossip, and sighed, none-too-subtle complaints at their lack of husbands. His former tricks of mischievous flirting and dangerous attitude would not win him much favor here. So it was with fervency that he used any means to spare himself a dance with one of them. Unfortunately, the mothers of these hopeful girls were not shy of breaching his wall of aversion in order to set their daughters up with the handsome American prince. _

"_I'm sure you are quite the apt dancer M'sieur Lebeau. Why do you stand to the side when so many fine young women are present," asked one ample older woman with a raised eyebrow. Her voice was neutral, but he could see her beady eyes staring him down and waiting for his response._

_Remy tried to hold the woman's stare calmly, but he was running out of excuses, short of swearing obscenely in French and storming out of the party. With a quick flicker of a gaze around the room, his eyes found a way out as a plan hatched swiftly in his mind._

_He gave the elder woman a charming smile and bowed slightly. "Pardon me mademoiselle, but I promised the next dance to Ms. Anna Boudreaux. Sadly, she's been preoccupied wit' discussion until now. I'd better head over dere," he said, trying to mimic the proper speaking patterns and restraining his compulsive use of the third person. He calmly made his way to the younger girl as she spoke to Julian._

_He tapped her on the shoulder and her head whipped around. The green eyes sparked as she stared at him._

"_Can I help you?" Her voice was a familiar Southern drawl, not Louisiana, but it reminded him blissfully of home._

"_Remy wondered if de fille would honor him wit' a dance?" This girl was not raised in wealth; he didn't fear speaking in his normal voice. Julian gave him a look with a cocked eyebrow, but shrugged it off and guided his woman to another part of the ballroom. Remy was relieved. He and Julian had never gotten along well in past years, but the blonde man had mellowed out noticeably since his engagement. He turned his charm back to the girl._

_Anna considered him. In actuality, this was her first formal celebration, and she had never been asked to dance before. She had seen him reject every other girl, so why would he choose her? Was this a joke?_

_She was about to refuse him, when his eyes went from confident to pleading. She was slightly shocked by the change as he hissed to her in desperate tones. _

"_S'il vous plait, dese femmes will eat moi alive if Remy don't dance with someone."_

_Anna, after recovering from her surprise, fought the urge to laugh. The formerly proud young man now looked so helpless and puppy-like that she couldn't resist._

"_All right then." He sighed with relief before taking her hand and leading her to the dance floor among the other couples. He took one of her hands in his left, while placing his right hand on her waist. He found it nice how well his palm fit there. She was a good deal shorter than him, but it seemed just the right height for dancing. They allowed the music and the swell of dancers around them carry them into the rhythm. _

_Rogue tried not to blush. He was quite a good dancer, but there was an awkward silence hanging between them._

_Remy coughed before breaking the pause. "So, you were adopted?"_

_She nodded, her curls bouncing around her face. "Like you heard, my mother worked for the Boudreaux family f'r years. She died while on a mission in the spring, and she made sure I was provided for. It hasn't been easy, but I'm learnin' to adjust."_

_Remy examined her, a thoughtful expression on his face. "How old are y' fille?"_

_She didn't seem put out by the blunt question and responded to it promptly. "Fifteen. And you?"_

"_Nineteen." At this point he tripped a little and stepped on her foot rather heavily. He cringed in embarrassment. _

"_Désole chère."_

"_No, it's fine. I had t' practice for this party with Julian, an' his feet are a lot bigger than yours."_

_Remy laughed, receiving a humorous mental image of the Assassin heir flopping around in the giant red shoes circus clowns wore. It might not be the most appropriate thought for a guild prince, but it was funny nonetheless. For the time being, in the presence of this girl, he forgot his longing for home._

_Anna grinned. Compared to the proper family she had grown into the past seven months, Remy Lebeau seemed so lighthearted and friendly in comparison. She shrugged lightly. "I'm surprised I didn't step on you first. I've never really danced before; formally at least."_

"_You're a pretty good dancer Remy t'inks." This caused another faint blush._

_At this time, the livelier waltz they had been participating in finished to scattered applause. The musicians bowed and then settled to begin the next song. It was much slower than the previous, and very beautiful. The notes lilted gently, as if the music itself was dancing, rhythmically and gracefully. It seemed an almost dream-like tune. _

_Remy and Anna drew closer and moved with the dancing lullaby. Their steps were soft, and the dancers around them seemed to fade into the background. Anna smiled; this song was so gentle and innocent. _

_Remy cocked his head. As the music waltzed, it seemed to be responding to the grin on Anna's face. She had seemed so solemn before, but a lightened heart seemed to shine through her face now. It truly made her a lovely sight to behold, pure and unblemished. He had never quite seen a face like it._

_The song ended far too soon, but such a dance neither had ever experienced before. Then everyone stilled. From deep in the castle, deep chimes could be heard, tolling the beginning of a new year. The congregation waited with baited breath. At last, the final throaty boom was heard, and cheers rose from the party. Glasses were raised and toasts were made in honor of a new year's dawn. The two youths joined in the merriment._

_Instinctively, they both bowed and curtsied to one another, smiles on both their faces. They were about to draw together again for the next set when they were interrupted._

"_Well, I step out for a minute an' de infamous Remy Lebeau leaps to the stage, wit' my petite sister no less. How about a real dance partner for dis next set?"_

_Anna felt a smooth but undeniably strong arm slinking between her and her partner, then firmly pushing her away. Belladonna shot Remy a winning smile and her adopted sister a sardonic glare. Before either party could protest, she led Remy into the center of the floor. Remy cast a disappointed glance at Anna, but she didn't see it._

_Anna watched as Belladonna swept the handsome young man into the dance. The younger girl stayed where she was by the edge of the room. Inside her, a familiar clenching feeling settled in her chest._

_It was a fact that Anna didn't regard herself as anything special. She had received no special education, was not in her own mind particularly beautiful, and she came from humble origins. Ever since her arrival in the Assassins' Guild, she had felt extremely out of place, especially compared to Belle. She had settled into the role of the gray mouse; the none-too-exceptional dangler at the end of the Boudreaux line, the rogue of the family. She was used to Bella being the star and didn't often contest the fact. But this time, she felt the distinct unfairness in this. She had enjoyed her time with Remy Lebeau, and he had seemed to likewise. Even more than the burn of the degradation was that she knew she wasn't brave enough to stand up for herself. Raven had always been her strength in a way, and without her mother she didn't know where she stood in the world. So she was nothing compared to the gorgeous, strong, and clever Boudreaux heiress. _

_Anna clenched her fists, feeling a sting in her eyes. She growled before whipping around and heading for the large door half hidden behind the curtains in the corner. Even before the guild, she had learned from her mother that tears were a sign of weakness and should never be shown. No one would ever see her cry; ever!_

_The Present_

As I played out a soothing melody, so gentle it could be sung to calm an infant, the shadows of the past came to life before me. There were many misty, barely distinguishable shapes, all twirling about the dance floor or sending their ghostly laughs to echo around the room. I saw only two that were clear, the only ones I recognized.

The images of Remy and Anna appeared younger than the previous visions I'd seen. They still seemed in their teenage years. I watched Remy approach her, tap her on the shoulder, and after a whispered conversation they entered the throng of dancers. I watched as they overcame a bout of shyness, and their faces slowly relaxed and grew friendly. I saw them laugh, smile, and talk like any regular teenagers would.

As I wrapped up the last notes of the song, I saw a new phantom appear. I had never seen it before. The shape portrayed an impressive blonde woman, young as well, in expensive dress. She held herself with pride and assurance, but I couldn't help but faintly dislike the cold glint in the ghost's eyes. She stepped between the two future lovers, shunting Anna to the side before pulling Remy to the floor like a show dog. Anna was left alone near the wall.

The unrecognizable shades faded away until only the three distinct ones were left. I observed first the triumphant grin on the blonde's face, then the put out expression on Remy's. I turned to Anna last.

A myriad of emotions crossed over her pretty features rapidly, at last settling into a mix of pain and anger. Deep in her paled eyes, I could see infinite loneliness. Then she whirled, fading through the large side door as the other ghosts vanished as well.

Now things were changing. I wondered how far this tale would lead me. All I could do was pick up my notebook and follow the distraught ghost.

**Author note:**

**I apologize for missing my last update, but my quarter finals were coming and I had to study a lot. I decided to give you this chapter a little early as restitution for my sins. Anyway, YES! WE'RE FINALLY SEEING SOME PLOT PROGRESSION! Some of you might have been a bit confused before, but I promise it clears up a little from here. And if anyone has played the game before, NO BLABBLING IN REVIEW! I will find you!**

**Also, I will try to respond to reviewers at the end, because people that review deserve to be noticed.**

**Wolf skater – obviously I've written more, and I intend to finish this.**

**RedSmileyFace – Yeah, the weekend trip was a little iffy, but that was the first chapter. Anyways, it's the Marvel universe. It could be possible.**

**AngeliqueRox – Thanks for the encouragement, and yes Pietro and Wanda are from Romania. They won't be appearing in this fic sadly.**

**Fannut – Thanks a ton for your enthusiasm!**

**Kii – Always a pleasure to get a review from you. This one won't be as long as my other, but I hope it turns out well.**

**PeachesandCream – I just love it when people add the smiley faces . Your review gets five gold stars! *******

**Lady Firewing - Thank you for the flattering adjectives excellent and intriguing. Those kinds of descriptions make my day. Literally.**

**StormyNightengale - ** **When I played the free trial, I couldn't help but buy the stinking game. I loved it. But since you'd rather read this, don't buy it ;)**

**Lex-F – YAY, HAPPY DANCE! I'm glad you like it so much. This is what I love about writing, knowing someone else is enjoying it. Happy reading!**


	5. Chapter V

**And now, for the next installment of our tale… **

_**Stroke of Midnight**_

_**= Chapter V =**_

The room into which I pursued the ghost was unlike any of the others I had yet seen. I had entered a massive greenhouse, the warm air of the subtropics smacking me in the face like a wet towel. I spun around slowly, taking in the space. It really was a giant room, with a curving set of stone stairs leading up to a second and third floor. I couldn't help but be amazed by the diverse menagerie of flora. Thick shrubs with branches heavy with brightly colored flowers or shining berries crowded their roots into every free spot of soil. There were solid-looking wooden tables in the corners with more flower pots, plant specimens, and fancy brass magnifying glasses. In the center of the room was a towering tree of enormous girth. Craning my neck, I could see the crown of leaves reach up to the top floor. The roof, instead of being a proper roof, was a glass dome that let me see the partly shrouded moon outside.

Another thing I noticed was how incredibly neat everything was. I had noticed before the changes in the castle, but it was most obvious here. A normal abandoned castle greenhouse would have been overgrown and shaggy, dead leaves and jutting twigs littering everything. Grime and dust should have clouded everything. But here, the bushes were neatly trimmed and the cobble stone ground was gleaming it was so clean.

So I began the now routine process of searching out the room for the mirror. There was a problem; I couldn't get the stairs to the higher levels because of a giant rift that had cracked open. It was far too large to jump over without falling and causing myself painful injury. So I was restricted to the bottom floor. I explored as thoroughly as possible, but this time I wasn't able to locate my cue giver. I circled through again; still nothing.

Finding myself back in the front of the room, I realized how tired I was. My feet hurt from traversing back and forth through this nutty castle, and my mind was sluggish after piecing together all I had learned. I didn't know what time it was, since the only chimes I had heard after leaving my room had been midnight repeatedly. I plopped myself down next to an ornate pool with an artificial waterfall splashing gently into the emerald water. It made very pleasant ambient noise.

"Oh Pete," I mumbled sleepily. "I bet you'd be amazed if you knew what I was doing right now." My eyes closed as I wondered what he would think if I came home claiming to have vacationed with ghosts and talking mirrors. I snorted at the image that train of thought conjured. I could almost see his blank expression before he started talking soothingly of soup and bed. Then I concluded that my story, this beyond-the-limits-of-belief adventure, would be something only I would know about. Who would believe me? But hey, maybe one day it would make a great bedtime story if I ever have kids.

Something sparkled before my eyelids, causing me to open them. I was surprised to find the familiar glittering words dancing in front of me; except they weren't in a mirror. Instead, my next clue was bouncing around in the pouring stream of the waterfall. At least the castle was adaptable. This time it only had a sentence for me.

"_**Go up to witness destiny's twist."**_

I looked at the stairs again. They were still crumbled. I glanced confoundedly at the mirror before heading toward the staircase again, thinking I had missed something. The moment I set my foot on the first step, I felt something like a brick slam into my head before everything went black.

~.~.~.~.~

I blinked, and then groaned as I rolled onto my knees. I felt my scalp tenderly for what must surely be a whopper bump, but I found nothing. My long brown hair was undisturbed, and my cream skin was unbroken. How strange…I know that I felt that. Then I took in my surroundings, finding that the castle had thrown me another of its curveballs.

I wasn't in the greenhouse anymore, but in a large room with walls covered from bottom to top in weapons, hunting trophies, and portraits of heroic looking figures. Obviously the man of the house's room, though Pete was content with his small studio/rec room.

Now how on earth had I gotten here? Was the castle taking to teleporting me places now? My eyes found the one door in the room and I went over. Finding it locked (what a surprise) I peeked through the keyhole to the room beyond. I could see the crown of a tree peeking over the edge of a balcony. I was still in the greenhouse; this was just one of the rooms I had seen from the ground floor.

Reassured, I thoroughly examined the room this time. Several armchairs and a table in front of the spacious fireplace were guarded by old bronze cannons. A stuffed dog stood in a watchful pose near a pedestal and, behind it, three armored statues. I felt like they were staring at me, waiting for me to make a move. It was unnerving to say the least.

"Would you stop looking at me?" I squeaked. I got no reply from the statues, but was shocked when I heard mocking laughter in my head as a huge shield on the wall behind me showed the next set of instructions.

"_**Raise a toast**_

_**To witness deal:**_

_**Glasses find,**_

_**With wine them fill."**_

I smirked. "Really phenomenal poetry you have going there." The light from the words written on the shining surface flickered like strobe lights for a second before resettling. I wondered if that was the closest the mirror could get to flipping me off. Then I thought about how bizarre that sounded. Maybe I should listen to the mirror: maybe if I got drunk the situation wouldn't seem that weird to me anymore.

Shaking my head I tried to concentrate on the task before me. It was easy enough to find the wineglasses, but getting to them was the problem. The ornate goblets were locked in a box, with no sign of key nearby.

Groaning, I got down on my hands and knees to search the floor: nope. I thoroughly scanned the overcrowded shelves of the bookcases and servers: zip. I lifted the animal fur carpets: nada.

"Ugh!" I flopped in a chair. Brain teasing puzzles I could handle, but tediously searching for a stinking key reminded me too much of my average Monday mornings. I was on vacation to get away from that type of bore, for the love of God!

I sat for a while. There was a fire in the hearth, already roaring when I had entered, and I enjoyed the warmth. After my fingers were toasty again, I found myself drifting toward the ceiling-high window in the corner. I peered out into the night. I could see the lake below as well as the edge of the cemetery. Through the still falling sheet of rain I could see the mountain heights out in the distance, the peaks barely tinted with pale blue light. I could see the dark fuzz of pines lodged in the crags, while swirling clouds softened the harsher lines. It looked like a gothic painting that Piotr would have loved to capture. I smiled. It was such a melancholy beauty, kind of like Anna and Remy's story. I felt an even greater compulsion to discover everything that had transpired all those many years ago.

My eyes left the landscape outside, glancing over the reflections in the window. My eye caught something glinting in the corner.

I had found the key wedged in the stuffed dog's mouth. It took a bit of work, but I managed to pry the little brass thing out from the snarling mouth.

When I removed the glass goblets I couldn't help but admire them. The designs were exquisite, and the detail added to them was so fine it made me feel clumsy and heavy-fingered while handling them. I had found the wine in the server, and the moment I uncorked it a heavenly smell bombarded my olfactory senses. It took some self-control not to take a sip. As soon as the glasses were filled with the rich red liquid, the twelve chimes sounded out again.

_January 1__st__ 1860_

_Four glasses were raised in celebration as the four guild leaders toasted the New Year. They had retired from the ballroom shortly after midnight, bidding farewell to their families and guests. Now they sat in the luxurious chairs in the war room, discussing both business and pleasure._

_Jean-Luc Lebeau sipped at the fine wine with much appreciation. "It's been a good year for all of us."_

"_Indeed it has. The guild chapters have prospered greatly," agreed Cristian Dimitruv, the Romanian Thief lord. Opposite him sat Vlad Dimir of the Assassin chapter, with Marius beside him. It wasn't often that the leaders could meet under such amiable circumstances, but at the close of such a fine year and the promise of new achievements they were all united in peace. Over the winter both Romanian and New Orleans leaders from both guilds would meet often to discuss business and joint transactions. For now, they entertained each other with tales of their homes and successes._

_Cristian turned to Jean-Luc. "Your sons have grown into fine young men I have noticed. Henri will make a fine Guild leader, and with his brother beside him I foresee great prospects for our New Orleans brothers."_

_Jean-Luc nodded, acknowledging the compliment, but he looked rather troubled. "Merci for your words Cristian; they have both grown a good deal. Henri has become a full man, but at times I'm doubtful 'bout Remy's right t' be a leader among his guild. The boy's still reckless an' no matter what he stays stubborn to de ways and rules he's expected t' follow." The man sighed, swilling his drink in contemplation._

_Vlad shrugged. "He is young. It is merely a phase that will pass in time."_

_Marius leaned forward. "Well, maybe it isn't dat simple. Julian was just de same some years ago: goin' out on crazy excursions, picking fights, actin' like any regular street criminal instead o' an Assassin heir. Didn't know what t' do about it until Adèle came around. Soon as the two were betrothed, Julian mellowed out so fast I could barely recognize my own son. Maybe dat's what your young prince needs, somethin' to keep his feet on de ground."_

_Jean-Luc leaned back, considering the other man's words. "So you're sayin' that maybe what Remy needs is a wife?"_

_The other men found that this seemed like a reasonable solution. Vlad spoke up. "Before we left the congregation I noticed the boy dancing with your daughter Marius. He and Belladonna made quite the handsome couple. A union between the two might benefit both your families mutually." _

_Marius and Jean-Luc thought it over. It might lift some of the animosity held between their two guilds, as well as a future combination of the two chapters. They discussed it shortly in whispers, before turning to the other two leaders._

"_Raise your glasses fellow guild masters," exclaimed Marius jovially. "We toast a union to come, that will one day untie us as one." The Romanian men declared their delight as their glasses were topped off. Cristian stood and raised his glass. He motioned to the statues in the corner, standing like guardians over their guilds._

"_Ancestors, witness this moment!" He turned to Jean-Luc and Marius. "May your children be eternally joyous; to Remy and Belladonna." Glasses clinked, echoing through the room and back through time._

_The Present_

I watched the crime lords for some time as they simply chatted, telling jokes and speaking of business. It reminded me of when John, Scott, Pietro, and Kurt came over for the Super Bowl; just guy talk. Well, what I assumed was guy talk, since I was always talking to Wanda, Jean, and Amanda whenever the boys retreated to the living room to scream about gameplay I had no clue about.

The voices were rather garbled, making it hard to understand. Despite my best efforts, I found myself tuning out. What importance could this be to the story? Unexpectedly, a booming voice rang through the room as one of the ghosts stood, startling me. He held up his glass to the familiar ones that sat in chairs facing each other.

"_May your children be eternally joyous; to Remy and Belladonna!" _I heard goblets clink as the ghosts faded away. Before I could think about the scene or even really grasp it, I was hit with that freaking brick again and woke up back in the green house.

"God that hurts!" I moaned as I held my head. I didn't have much time to dwell on my throbbing skull. Another shadow of the past was waiting for me.

_January 1__st__ 1860_

_Anna sat curled on the intricately carved bench in the magnificent greenhouse. It was hidden behind the trunk of the tree, half in shadow, so no one would simply stumble upon her. Normally she would have quietly been awed by the grandeur and beauty of the place, slightly dazed by the toxic-sweet smells of the many flowers and herbs. She would have been enchanted by the silver moonlight spilling down through the glass dome roof, lighting the towering tree and the stone floor below in a silver glow. _

_Now though, she didn't bother admiring the floral menagerie. Instead, she contemplated her place among her new family and the world around her. _

_Her mother Raven had always been a strict person, pushing her daughter to be successful. Despite the times they lived in where women were meant to be the caretakers of home and family, Raven's independent nature refused the domestic lifestyle the world expected of her and lived for herself. As far as Anna could remember, her mother had worked numerous jobs for the Assassins' guild, even before she herself had been born._

_Anna had been a mistake, she knew that. Raven had told her only once of the handsome assassin who had accompanied her on several of her missions. They grew close, but after one unanticipated night together he had left her for an Assassin woman. Raven had never told the man she was pregnant, and determined to raise the child on her own. Anna didn't know her father's name. _

_Now Raven herself was gone, killed on the job. Her final wish of payment had been her daughter's secured future in her mother's line of work. And so Anna had entered the world of the Guilds. Before now she had never really left the vicinity of the Guild house for the two years she had been among their ranks. It was always Belladonna and Julian who attended Lord Boudreaux to events, and they would always bring back stories to tell their 'little sister' of the many New Orleans parties, rivalries with the opposing guild, and the fine young men and women of their city. Anna, the gray mouse and adopted pity case, would spend her own days wandering the bayous in solitude and dreaming of adventures beyond her sphere of existence. When it rained, she sat in her large suite and read about them instead._

_Now she was finally on an adventure of sorts. It was exciting to see a part of the world she had never seen before. Yet even here, she couldn't escape her seclusion. Anna was still the outsider, still the extra baggage that would forever be the odd one out. _

_But there had been the man, Remy. He hadn't seemed to care that she was not of his world. Then again, maybe he had just been being polite. Yes, that was probably it. He would find a much better partner in Belladonna._

_As if the thought had been a summons, Anna heard the clack of expensive shoes on stone. She lifted her head to see Bella approaching. She held herself regally and elegantly, but her expression was clearly irritated. She crossed her arms and narrowed her eyes at her foster sister._

_"An' jest what did y' think you were doin'?"_

_Anna knew immediately what she spoke of. She had heard through many joking tales from Julian of the supposed rivalry between Remy Lebeau and Belladonna, but Anna knew better. Bella was responsible for much of Anna's training as a Guild heiress, and during the time the two girls spent together, the handsome Prince of Thieves was a popular topic for the blonde's dialogue. Bella had often dictated plans that one day Remy Lebeau would be hers, and together they would create the most admirable couple among the New Orleans crime families, maybe even among all the other guilds of the world. For him to show attention to the unobtrusive tail-end of the family instead of its gem was a sore blow to Bella's pride, and such an act did not go without consequence. _

_Bella continued to glare, tapping her foot as she waited for a response. For a moment, the younger Southern Belle felt a rebellious flame inside. Bella had always looked down on her, lording over her as a duchess would to a servant. Anna may not have been on the same level as her elder, but she didn't appreciate being treated like she was nothing. She had enjoyed her time dancing with Remy; she hadn't sought him out, he had come to her. If Bella had a problem with this, then it was her own unwarranted jealousy. Her tongue itched as she longed to say "Not every handsome man belongs to you, and if y' have a problem wit' us dancing, then go bawl at him." But her insecurity bound her tongue; her fiery and defiant response was smothered. Instead of a barbed comeback, she said exactly what Belladonna was expecting in a voice mumbling a monotone of submission._

_"I wasn't thinkin' nothin'. It was just dancing."_

_Belladonna's stare was icy as she just stared at the other girl. The slap Anna received to her cheek was unexpected, bringing tears to her green eyes. It didn't hurt; Raven had done as much several times before. Unlike those hits though, this stung at her pride and self-confidence. Raven had slapped her as a discipline, her stern and calculating ways predicting no less. But with Bella it felt like the slash of a knife. She could feel the contempt and dislike the blonde felt for her so keenly it was as if she had absorbed the emotions into herself. _

_Bella didn't say anything, merely sneering at Anna before spinning on her heel and heading back to the ballroom, where the music still floated clearly in the air. The message was clear though: do not defy the hierarchy. Anna was the commoner, and Belle was the queen. That offered no contest._

_Anna didn't move. She remained frozen with her fists clenched to her sides and her face drawn tight until the wooden door shut with a soft thunk. As soon as she was alone once more she sank onto the bench again and began to weep softly. At any other time she would have angrily scrubbed the tears away and steeled herself, refusing to show her weakness. Here though, in the early hours of a new year, she was far from home with no real family, or someone to care for her. She was alone, and when she was alone she could cry._

_Several minutes of silence passed and the tears continued to flow. Thus preoccupied, she wasn't able to hear the approaching footsteps. They were heavier than Bella's, but softer. _

_"Anna?" Her head snapped up, her curls falling in her face. The greenhouse was swathed in semi darkness, but his eyes gleamed from beyond the shade of the tree. She whipped her head around so he wouldn't observe the unsightly blemishes on her face left by her tears. She was hoping that he would just leave and let her collect herself, so that he wouldn't see her crying like a child. No such luck she realized as he quietly sat himself on the bench beside her._

_"Remy got a little worried when y' didn't come back. De gators were circling' again so Remy had t' get out fast wit'out your help." _

_Anna snorted faintly but still wouldn't look at him. She tucked a lock of hair behind her ear and murmured the words. "I thought ya were dancing with Bella. Most men I know would be ecstatic at the chance." _

_He shrugged. "Known Bella fo' years, ever since Remy was adopted. She's always been attractive, but never really found much appeal beyond dat." _

_Anna's head finally turned to him. Remy felt pity, seeing she had been crying, but she was still very beautiful. "Ya were adopted?"_

_He nodded. "When I was nine. Came off de streets before. Remy's never quite been able t' get dat part of himself out. Mon père been trying t' knock it out o' moi ever since I became de Prince, but dere's always gonna be a street rat in me. It's always made Remy different from de ot'er thieves."_

_Anna just stared. She hadn't known; then again, she had never met him. It was just that the stories she had heard from the other assassins and Bella always described him as nothing but crafty, flamboyant, and as devious as he was handsome. She hadn't expected him to sound so much like she felt herself. _

_He nudged her, trying to lighten her mood, and pointed up to the glass dome far above. "Look chère, dere's something' y' don't see in N'Awlins."_

_They both looked up to see a magical swirl of snowflakes dancing in the black air above. For a moment a slit opened in the clouds and the moon shone through, making the scene even more beautiful. They both stared like small children. For both, this was the first snowfall they had ever seen. Unconsciously, Anna leaned toward her companion, wanting to share this moment with another._

_After a time, Remy drew away his gaze and let it rest on the teenage girl beside him. Her face was lit up with wonder but her eyes still held a trace of sadness._

_"What was it dat you were cryin' bout petite?"_

_She started from her reverie and lowered her head again. Her subdued voice returned. _

_"Nothin'. It wasn't anything t' worry about."_

_He laid a hand on her shoulder. He didn't know why he felt such concern for this girl, but he did. Suddenly, his own displeasure with being here and his homesickness didn't matter as much as this young woman. _

_"Please chérie, y' can trust me. Remy t'inks he knows how you're feeling. I don't feel like moi belong here either. Remy misses his home an' he knows you do too."_

_She looked into his eyes and relented. "I do miss home. Maybe I wouldn't mind being away from it so much if I just felt like I had one friend t' share the experience with. But I'm not really a part of this family. I'm just the follow along. I...I don't feel like I belong here, and I don't know where I do. I'm not strong enough, skilled enough, or beautiful enough t' really make a difference in the guild. Belladonna an' Julian are the real heirs. I'm just Anna Marie, a girl from Mississippi who's here because of a debt."_

_Her companion stared at her for a long while without speaking, an unreadable expression on his face. Anna Marie chewed her lip, beginning to think she had said too much. She was about to apologize for her rambling when he looked away and seemed like he was scanning the room. He reached a long arm out and picked something from one of the nearby bushes, and then another something from a different shrub. Turning back to her he held both objects out in his hand. In his left hand was a crimson rose, perfectly shaped and gorgeous. In his right hand was a Rose-hip. The flower was modest in shape and in its cloudy pink coloring, but it held a beauty that was unlike that of the rose. It seemed innocent, and kind._

_Remy used a finger to lift her chin, making her gaze meet his own. "Now dis is how I see dis. On one hand, de rose is probably de most lovely flower known t' man; but it can't do nothin' 'cept be pretty and smell nice. One de ot'er hand is de Rose-hip. It ain't got the obvious beauty like de rose, but it has healing properties and uses dat can save lives."_

_"Dis flower is nearly as beautiful as you are Anna. It's nice t' look at, and can do a lot more besides. Don't t'ink dat you aren't pretty or useful, cause from what Remy's seen, you're a strong girl wit' talent. She just doesn't know how t' let it out."_

_Her eyes were wide from his appraisal of her. Then they softened, and at last the smile he had anticipated teased at her full lips. It was softer than he expected, with a pureness to it he had never seen in another woman. _

_She took the small flower he offered her and turned her smile to him once again. "Do y' say that to all the insecure young ladies?"_

_"Only when it's de truth."_

_She sighed, but it was no longer sad or lonely. "Thank you. Ya don't know how much that means t' me."_

_He gave her a charming half smile of his own and stood from the bench. "Y' know, you don't have to think you're alone Anna. Maybe we can keep each other company and last out our homesickness together."_

_She stood beside him, her dress rustling. "I would like that M'sieur Lebeau."_

_"Remy, just Remy. Oh, an' by de way, we never did get to finish dat last dance. Would de lady mind?"_

_"O' course not Remy." And so they danced alone under the boughs of the tree, the flowers as their entourage. And as they twirled beneath the snowy moonlight and among the still-blooming flowers, they neither felt loneliness or a longing for home. Here, together, they each held a piece of home in their arms. They danced long after the music from the adjoining room had ceased, until the absolute silence of solitude descended upon them many hours after midnight. _

I watched the scene from its very beginning. My anger was great at Belladonna's narcissism, and my pity was deep for the lonely Anna. But by the time that Remy came to Anna's side, I was all but enraptured. My blue eyes remained fixed on the now dancing pair. I watched them for a long time, until at last with hushed pleasantries, they bid each other goodnight. Strangely only Remy's shape faded away. Anna's image remained but was frozen, her happy smile still lingering on her face. With unexpected timing, a familiar voice echoed around the room loudly.

_"Let your children be eternally joyous; to Remy and Belladonna!"_

"Oh no..." I felt my chest tighten as I remembered. I had forgotten. A light gleamed and I turned my head. The waterfall once again held words, while with a loud creak, a wooden door that I hadn't noticed hidden behind the draping plants swung open.

_**"Young love born**_

_**'Tween hearts estranged**_

_**May soon be torn**_

_**By bonds arranged."**_

**Review Responses**

**Wolf skater – Genius's never reveal their secrets ;)**

**Lex-F – I'm glad this is interesting, and even better, the plot gets even thicker from here with even more **_**romance **_**-: (that's a rose in case you didn't know)**

**Lady Firewing – Encouragement from readers is always a great motivator. I always did love riddles involved with mysteries; it may be cliché, but one I couldn't really go without. And I hope you like my Pietro and Wanda references. P.S. who doesn't like reading the author's notes? They're hilarious! **

**SPARK187 – I'm sure you've read further than the first chapter now and I hope it lived up to expectations. I've really enjoyed writing this.**


	6. Chapter VI

**Merry Christmas Everyone!**

_**Stroke of Midnight**_

_**= Chapter VI =**_

The hallway behind the narrow wooden door was pitch-black. I couldn't even see my hand in front of my face as I groped my way cautiously down the stone passage. There didn't seem to be any obstacles around, for which I was quite grateful: my head still throbbed from my little teleporting experience and I didn't feel like adding a bruised shin to my collection.

The hallway was a long one, but at last I reached a more intricately carved door than the one I had entered in the greenhouse. Pushing it open, I found myself in yet another beautiful room. This was some kind of banquet hall. The walls were painted a rustic red that gleamed faintly. The rain outside pattered against the two high windows set in the corner between another harpsichord similar to the one in the ballroom, and a wooden doorway, beside which was an overhanging fireplace. In the center of the room was a long table draped with a white linen tablecloth and extravagantly carved chairs.

The room was set for a feast. The huge fireplace was roaring, sending bright flickers over the statuettes set above the fireplace and the matching maroon carpet. Bright flowers were arranged in golden vases, fresh cut from the greenhouse. Set over the table were plates of a coppery gold, shining silverware, and crystal goblets and bowls. Fragrant fruits spilled over the lips of their dishes with spring-fresh vegetables adding splashes of summery colors. Several golden-cooked birds and a steaming ham filled my head with smoky and succulent smells. The candles set along the table had their light shattered back from the crystal dishes and coming out red from the pitchers of wine.

I also noticed additional adornments. White lace ribbons lay among the platters of food, thick parchment cards written out with gold ink, and the most prominent a snow-white wedding cake.

_April 13__th__ 1864_

_Repeating a cold winter afternoon four years ago, the rattle of carriage wheels rode up to the Dimitruv castle with authoritative clearness, announcing the arrival of the Boudreaux's. _

_The well-dressed family exited the carriage. Belladonna was helped down by her brother. Her face glowed triumphantly as she observed the castle. Fitting, she thought, to be wed in such a place. She and Remy Lebeau would be married here before returning to America as man and wife. It had thrilled her that on the way back through the European chapters on their journey home, Remy would become her husband. She couldn't wait to return a married woman. _

_Behind her, Julian proffered his hand to another figure waiting in the carriage. A delicate white-gloved hand was placed in his strong palm, before the woman with amber locks and shining green eyes stepped down and joined her family as they entered the magnificent household._

_Again, the Romanian lords were there to greet them, but Anna found her eyes wandering. It had been four years since she had seen this place and she had many fond memories, but now they were tainted with dread. _

_She hadn't known how to react when she discovered that her foster sister would be wed to Remy. Her face had been straight, she had smiled in congratulation for Bella, but once alone her thoughts had returned. _

_It had been a long winter that year, and the guild masters were often together to discuss their business. Thus, she often found herself spending her days with Remy. When the days had been clear they would take horses from the stable and explore the trails ranging over the countryside and into the mountains, or they would sit precariously on the cemetery fence and read aloud epic tales found in books stolen from the library. She had been surprised that he had enjoyed such things. When she asked about it, he said it was far better than being smothered in an office. She couldn't help but agree._

_What she remembered the most was one night, only a week before they were to part ways, she had woken up in the middle of the night to see his rather abnormal amber eyes staring her in the face. She had nearly put a knife between his eyes. After some shrill laughter and sheepish apologies on both parts, he had returned to excitement. _

"_Anna, come on. I found somethin' you'll want t' see." And so he had managed to drag her through dark castle halls in only her sleeping gown. They had entered the darkened library with only several dim candles flickering on the chandeliers. _

"_Why are we here?" He had merely winked and tugged her along. Rounding a corner into the back of the library, she had been surprised to see a narrow staircase climbing through the roof. Remy had towed her up the stairs, their bare feet padding silently on the wood._

_As they reached the top, Anna gasped. They stood in an observatory, with a window in the roof opened to the chill night air and winter stars outside. A massive telescope was stationed on a raised platform, facing the constellations. _

"_How'd you find this?" Her awe was evident in her voice as she clutched her thin white gown closer around her, trying to ward of the biting flights of breeze._

_He had grinned wolfishly. "Just lookin' around. C'mon, let's see if dis thing still works." He leaned down and adjusted the workings of the telescope. Bending down and ignoring the chill in her pale limbs, Anna peered into the lens. She was amazed by the beauty of the spread of stars, enhanced through the magnifying glass. They gleamed like icy diamonds._

_Sudden warmth stole over her, before she felt the brush of a sculpted torso barely leaning against her back. Anna resisted the urge to jump as his scruffy chin poked over her shoulder._

"_Don't be hoggin' the view chère." His cheek was barely brushing against hers, enough for her to feel the stubble chasing over his firm jaw. Anna bit her lip lightly but her training allowed her to remain still as they both peered into the lens at the map of heaven._

"_Look Anna." She could feel his arm moving around her to point. "Dat one's the Virgo constellation. Henri an' I used t' sit on de roof and watch de stars all night when we didn't want to go t' bed."_

_Anna grinned, elbowing him back playfully to retain some personal space. "I learned 'bout the constellations when I read Greek myths. Those were always my favorite stories. My favorite was Odysseus: he went through years of hardships and loneliness, but he never gave up. In the end, he got home t' his family."_

_The two had spent a good deal of the night gazing at the stars and talking. It was only several days later that they had parted ways. Anna had felt the sting of loss as she saw his figure standing on the bridge disappear into the distance. Over the months they had become dear friends, but they now had to face a long time apart, far from home. They had still sent letters, disguised with a secret folding technique they had practiced in each other's company, but they couldn't be together to witness the changes taking place within them both._

_Now the two were going to meet after four years apart, and one of them was engaged. _

_She snapped back to attention as they were directed away to their suites. Bella talked as she walked beside Anna, not realizing or perhaps not caring that the other girl wasn't paying attention._

"– _an' this location is jes' perfect. De scenery's magnificent, an' of course it __**is**__ a castle. Won't dat be a story to tell back in N'Awlins. Oh, I can't wait till my dress is finished; it's gonna be a masterpiece. What's even better, Remy can make fireworks for de weddin' ceremony –" _

_Anna couldn't have cared less. All she had heard about over the course of their journey past the familiar sights was the wedding. She longed to escape the endless talk of dresses, invitations, cakes, and Remy, Remy, Remy. It seemed that Belle was finally getting her wish. They separated in the hallway, Bella moving further down toward her own room._

_Her room hadn't changed. It had come to be known as her room. It was the closest thing to home she had known for a while. Dropping onto the familiar bed she sighed, trying to identify the dragging feeling in her chest. _

"_Ugh!" She pounded a white fist against the pillow and shot up from the bed, striding to the window and looking out. The scene was familiar and welcome, and even when she went home she wanted to remember it. She drew her from her bag her white paged book filled with her sketches. They might not have been professional, but she loved to look back on things she might never see again, captured in ink._

_The hour grew late and darkness crept through the window. She finished her drawing just as the light drained, and now she sat among the rolls of the bed sheets reading by candlelight._

_The last thing Anna expected was to hear soft taps on her door. Her head bolted up._

"_Come in." The door cracked, the candle's light reflecting off a pair of almost red eyes. Anna sucked in a breath. He had changed; not substantially, but enough for someone who knew him like she did to notice. His hair was longer, his face even more shaped, but the more noticeable changes were on the inside. He seemed more solemn and world-weary. Something seemed to be missing from the Remy she had known four years ago._

_He also paused in the doorway. Anna had grown beyond beautiful; she was exquisite, even in her night dress. Her hair had also grown longer, tied back loosely with a ribbon. She had grown taller by several inches, and her figure was fully a woman's. Her face, though angled and shaped to its full potential, still retained the innocence that had so intrigued him during that party._

_She stood, pulling the gown closer around her. The unidentified emotion was warring with happiness at seeing her dearest friend after so long. She smiled in a way that startled him with its radiance and joy._

"_Remy." Before either was quite aware she had crossed the room and embraced him. He grinned; it felt so familiar._

"_I missed y' Anna." He smiled, but Anna could see the crease in his forehead. He always looked like that when something was bothering him. Her green eyes grew more intense as she stared at him._

"_What's wrong Remy?" He nudged away gently and sat on the bed, putting his face in his hands, groaning. She wondered how long he had been holding this in. He sent her a glance, a mix of panic and indecision. "Is it about the marriage?"_

_He sighed. "What'm I gonna do Anna? It all just hit me so fast. One moment père is gone from our lives an' de next I find out I'm getting hitched with Belle. Jean-Luc never asked me 'bout it; hell, I don't even know how I feel about it!"_

_The girl sat beside him, looking concerned. "Can't you just talk to Marius about it? I'm sure somethin' can be arranged."_

_Remy chuckled darkly. "Still grasping de ways of de Guild aren't y' chère? Dese kinds of things aren't negotiable. If de masters agreed to it then it's final."_

_Pity for her friend filled her, as well as a darker emotion that she was subconsciously trying to block. "I'm so sorry Remy." She was silent before trying to comfort him again. She wasn't used to this kind of coddling talk, seeing as she had been raised by Raven. "Maybe it won't be so bad. Bella an' you might be happy together." _

_He raised an eyebrow at her. "We speaking de truth here petite?" _

"_No. Belle's a narcissist, but if you just can't do it then I'll help y' tie the sheets together and climb out the window. It should be only a short fifty miles to the nearest village." _

_He snorted and looked up. His face stilled and the crease reappeared. Remy felt as though he had been slapped. It wasn't so much her words that had struck him, but how she could cheer him up even in this intimidating situation facing him. No one had ever been able to do that, not even his brother really. Whenever he had been discouraged through the four years, he had always thought of her smile, or her laugh, or her rude boyish jokes when they explored the Romanian moors. Anna Marie was unlike anyone he had ever met before: on one side a proper and refined lady, on the other a feisty and humorous girl with little thought to anyone's opinion of her. He remembered his first thoughts when he had discovered the letter from Jean-Luc. Who was it that his mind had first gone to? Who had he always thought of during his more lonely days? Why hadn't he ever realized it before? His eyes fell back to her, truly grasping how dazzling she was._

"_What's the matter now Remy?" He said nothing, but slowly, he began to lean closer._

"_What are you doin'?" She stuttered to a halt under his intense eyes. Anna was unable to articulate any more words when she felt his larger fingers twining with hers. His nose brushed against her cheek and she shivered. For a moment she felt exhilaration: this was the most glorious feeling she had ever known! Then her exultation was drowned in a wave of terror. This man, her friend, was pledged to her sister. What was happening was wrong!_

"_S-stop, Remy please…Please stop!" She pushed him away, trying to ignore the hurt in his eyes._

"_Anna…"_

"_Please, just go." She pointed to the door, her face hardening. He opened his mouth, as if to speak, then shut it and slunk from the room with one last piercing look. Anna sat motionless in shock, but most of all, pain. That denied emotion that had been battering at her since she had found out he was betrothed finally broke through. It matched the light in his eyes as he had looked at her: he loved her, and she him she now realized. Anna covered her mouth as it fully hit. She loved her dear friend, the one who had kept her company through a long winter and long after with their secret letters. But whatever they felt didn't matter, because he was promised to Belle. _

_She gasped at how much that knowledge hurt. For a moment she was determined to go to Marius and beg for the agreement not to carry through, but then she blanched. Such a hope would be fruitless: she was the younger sister whose elder wasn't yet wed, and even if that did not matter, Marius would never offer the adopted girl as a bonding treaty. _

_She felt tears again. She hadn't cried since that night four years ago and the action seemed alien to the now well-trained assassin girl. She scrubbed them away, reminded again of who she was and what was expected of her. The only thing to be done would be to submit to the leaders' wishes. It was her lot, no matter how much it hurt._

_The Present_

I held my forehead as a brief flash of scenes rapidly blinked in my mind's eye. This had happened several times before, but never quite so vividly. I could see a glimpse of the main characters in this tale; I could hear a conversation at high speed, and then a flash of familiar warmth. It was what I felt whenever I was with Piotr, but this was marred with pain and envy.

The visions, for lack of a better word, ceased and I slumped against the table. I tried to piece the brief flashes together with the clearer story. I figured this had been when the two really realized they loved each other. Pity came again now that I knew the fate the both were doomed to.

The mirror drew my attention back to my own tasks.

"_**Taste a bit **_

_**Of wedding cake,**_

_**And time will charm **_

_**The Ghosts awake."**_

I eyed the cake apprehensively. I wasn't jumping at the opportunity to taste a several hundred year old cake, but the mirror's message was clear. I inched forward, preparing myself to do something I had seen on Fear Factor before. My worry turned out to be utterly unnecessary.

Much like the Rose-hip flower back in Anna's suite, the moment I touched the silky rose on the middle layer the cake fell apart in a splash of sapphire blue sparkles, scattering like marbles over the table. I heard a tiny ringing, like dinner bells sounding, before lights grew around the table.

I could see the all the familiar characters. Toward the end of the table sat both Romanian guild lords and their families, while nearest my end were the main players. I could see the Assassin lord Marius speaking with his wife, both with delighted expressions on their faces. Across from them were Remy's brother and his wife. I noticed the rounded stomach of the woman named Mercy, and how Henri gazed adoringly on her between swift glances toward the head of the table.

There sat the three main characters: Belladonna, just as stunning as ever; Remy, with a blank expression on his face; and poor Anna, who was sitting silently in her chair. I could see her pale fingers fiddling with something in her pocket. A slip of paper caught my eye, and I realized it was her goodbye note. So this must be the same day that I saw at the beginning of my adventure. Yes, her dress was the same, and she looked older and more like the fine young woman I had first seen.

I sat myself in a strangely empty chair beside Anna. This supernatural experience wasn't quite like the others. I didn't feel so much an outside observer anymore as I did a part of the story itself. I felt oddly connected to Anna. I could feel the sadness and indecision coming from her, and even some of the turmoil emanating from Remy. If I closed my eyes I could almost imagine seeing everything from Anna's eyes.

_April 14__th__ 1864_

"_Everything's gonna be perfect Sunday. O' course, I'll have t' make sure the flowers are just right…"_

_Did this woman never take a hint and be silent? Remy could feel his uneasiness affecting his appetite. He had known Belle for years, but only in briefer interactions. Now, with the prospect of being wed to her in three short days, he fully grasped how little he wanted to be bound to her for the rest of his life. Though beautiful and intelligent in her way, she was sarcastic, proud, and vain. He knew he was flawed himself with several of these things, but it was part of his image only, what he created and lived by to portray the Prince of Thieves. For Belle, it was all she was._

_He cast his eyes briefly to the opposite side of the table, ignoring the continuing chatter of the other diners. The more he things he found to his dislike in Belladonna, the more good he found in Anna. She was just as fiery if she needed to be, but she was smart in many ways, kind, and modest. It felt like he was being stuck with thorns, knowing that he had only just discovered his love for the girl and he would lose her in less than a week. The zero hour was approaching too quickly for him to comprehend._

_Despite his warring emotions and thoughts, Remy's face remained absolutely straight. He had become an expert at masking his expression. Henri didn't need to know what was going through his mind, what with his first child well on the way. He knew his brother was watching him, after seeing Remy's first reaction to the news, but his poker face was impenetrable. _

_He could almost feel the tense atmosphere hovering between himself and Anna. It hurt that there was such a distance between them. Even thousands of miles apart and only communicating through letters he had felt closer to her. The distance between them now wasn't measured in inches or even miles anymore. It was measured in the conventionalities of the time and by the rules and regulations of the Guilds they belonged to, but most of all in Anna's decision to put aside her feelings and obey their fathers' wills._

_He knew she felt the same, he had seen it last night before she rejected him. He had cursed himself many times for his rash behavior, assuming that she would have no hesitations. All he wanted was to reach out and touch her, tell her how he felt out loud and to everyone, but there were too many walls between the two that he doubted he could breach._

"_And fireworks, yes we have t' have fireworks!"_

_Belle's voice had been going non-stop since dinner started, and Remy was resisting the urge to rip chunks of his auburn hair out. Now she turned to him, obviously expecting an answer. He had become quite proficient in chemistry over the years and fireworks were his specialty. He knew she found it strange and would most likely end the hobby the moment they were man and wife, but for now it was convenient to her plans. Her icy blue eyes bored into him, making him feel like a dog who was supposed to roll over on command._

"_I'm working on 'em, trying t' calculate the explosion delay. If de belle femme would refrain from talking for a little while, I'll measure de right amount o' manganese for de mixture."_

_Belle's eyes narrowed at the request to be silent, but she deigned it with a toss of her hair as she turned to speak to her mother._

_Remy dropped his eyes below the table, in reality not determining the right proportions of ingredients for fireworks. He took a paper sheaf of his chemistry notes from his pocket and folded it in a complex pattern. He then scratched a hasty note onto the back, unfolded the paper, and straightened. _

_He stood, disregarding the fact that dinner wasn't over yet. Belladonna glared at him._

"_Where're you goin'?" _

"_To the lab. Gotta get working on dose fireworks if they're gonna be ready by Sunday." Remy dropped a fast glance at Anna before letting the paper slip from his fingers to the floor. She discreetly swept it up, nodding in acknowledgement to him without meeting his eyes. Swallowing his disappointment, Remy bid farewell to the guests and exited through the door by the fireplace with Bella staring angrily after him._

_Anna grasped the crumpled note tightly in her white fist._

When I opened my eyes again, the ghosts were gone. The fire had dimmed greatly and the dishes from the feast had disappeared. Time seemed to have passed me in the blink of an eye.

I looked down, finding myself in the seat Anna had occupied. In my hand was a balled up note.

Amazed at this new twist in this experience, I opened my hand and examined the wrinkled paper. Most of it was scribbles on how to prepare fireworks, but I could see several stray words dotted about the page disjointedly. I tried to recreate the folding trick I had witnessed Remy use, but it took me several tries to succeed.

It read, _"Anna, I have something very important to tell you. Please, wait for me in the library at midnight; Remy._

I glanced up as the door he had exited from swung open. My heart jumped a little. He was going to tell Anna how he felt! Eagerly, I jumped up to see where I was to go next, slipping into the cracked doorway and into the passage beyond.

I barely was able to be surprised at how dark it was before an earth-shattering boom and crack shook the entire castle. Light flashed painfully in my eyes and the ground pitched beneath my feet. With a scream of terror I tumbled into the darkness below.

**A cliffie! Muahahaha! (Insert Vincent Price voice) "Ooh, I love it when I'm **_**nasty**_**!"**

**Two decent chapters in two days? Oh yeah, who's the writer? Just so you know I get weird after dark, which is when I was writing this. Consider this a Christmas gift, seeing as I couldn't keep my promise relating to my other story. For those who read The Paths We Tread, I apologize for not updating like I said I would but writer's block attacks at the worst times. I will be working on that. So, Merry Christmas to everyone, and may you all be blessed in the New Year.**

**Wolf skater – All right, I admit it. I'm going to pull a Twilight-esque anticlimax, throw in some weird plot twist and ruin everything. That is a sad ending.**

**Lady Firewing – glad you liked my twin reference, and doesn't sibling rivalry just get that much better when the risks are higher? Oh, and I'm going to use this as a plug to beg that you quickly update DC2, I just can't stay away! **

**Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night!**


	7. Chapter VII

_**Stroke of Midnight**_

_**= Chapter VII = **_

I came to with my scratched cheek pressed to hard-packed soil. Rolling over, I faced a dark cellar passageway, the stairs I had practically flown down lying behind me. The bruises sent pain through my body in powerful throbs. Why did this castle enjoy causing me pain?

I scrabbled to my feet, ignoring the darts in my legs. I shivered; this basement looked more like catacombs than anything else. Rubbing the circulation back into my arms I inched along the dank corridor, my lonely steps resonating off the damp stone walls. I could hear rats running somewhere behind the walls, but whether they were real or just echoes of the past was anybody's guess.

The hall seemed endless. I was just about to turn back when another shrieking boom rattled the floor beneath me. A horrible cracking followed and I looked up in time to see a massive boulder falling toward me. I screamed, covering my head with no time to leap away. It smashed into the floor, I could hear it while my eyes were clenched shut, but it didn't touch me. Peeking an eye open again, I gasped. I was standing in the middle of the boulder, my torso protruding from the rock like a ghost. Staggering away I realized that the stone was wavering and transparent. Like the ghosts, it was only a figment of the past and couldn't harm me.

I yelped despite myself as more phantom debris rained down. Suddenly, another light flared at the end of the corridor. It was a pale, sickly blue that slithered over the walls, making the place even gloomier in this eerie light than it had been in the dark.

Then midnight clock tolls echoed down the passage, but now they sounded far more ominous and frightening. As the last gong struck agony ripped through me and I collapsed, gasping for air as I hugged myself in an attempt to stem the red-hot stabs of pain. Even greater was a sense of creeping dread as I looked down the hallway to the ghostly light. It illuminated a doorway piled with rubble, the light cast by phantom flames licking up the walls and sliding over the floor like snakes. What were even worse were the two shapes that had materialized among the backdrop of this awful scene; one a tall blonde woman standing absolutely still, and a man's figure. He was trapped in the fallen rocks with the greedy tongues of flame creeping closer to him every second.

I gasped again, thoughts and emotion and pain all filling me. I could feel what he had felt in that moment. My thoughts were his.

_The fallen beam was blocking the exit. I tried to scramble free from the stones crushing my legs, but the only thing to escape was a small shriek from clenched teeth as pain from a shattered rib raced up my side. I could feel hot blood running into my eyes, clouding my vision. Combined with the smoke pouring from the ruined laboratory behind me, I was nearly blind._

_The rocks shifted lower, and I cried out again in agony as the weight continued to crush me. My hand darted out, burns tracing it with horrible tattoos, grasping at the debris as I tried desperately to drag myself forward from the deathtrap. Horror filled my heart as, with a glance back into the demolished lab, I could see the fire growing ever closer to the crates of explosives. Now I thrashed without shame, fighting to escape certain death._

_Then at last I could see something through the smoke, a rigid figure just beyond my vision. I reached out, pleading._

"_Merci," I gasped, choking through the flames. "Please help me!"_

_The shape grew distinct, finally clear to my eyes. My heart nearly stopped at the pitiless, ice-blue gaze as it sentenced me to my doom._

"_You were goin' t' make a fool of me," Belladonna hissed, her eyes flashing. "Burn in hell." She stepped back, a cruel leer twisting her face._

"_Belle, please!"_

My eyes flew open again and I watched, frozen as Remy begged Belle to save him. The blonde retreated, her eyes as cold and sharp as flint, before spinning on her heel and disappearing in the chaos. Another crack split the masonry of the cellar. The oily blue flames roared higher. The whole cellar rumbled, combining into an awful harmony with Remy's scream of pain. Smoke billowed from the ruined lab behind him, obscuring him from my sight. With a last shattering roar the rocks slid down, covering the destroyed doorway, and Remy, completely.

I jumped to my feet as the whole tunnel began to collapse, and I fled. Even if the rocks would not harm me, I wanted nothing more than to distance myself from this awful place; a place of death.

~.~.~.~.~

The place I huddled in for refuge was a large sandstone kitchen. It was a comfortable place, but it held telltale signs of the deadly explosion only a floor below. Dishes and pots had fallen from their shelves and broken. A spit holding roasting meat over the fire pit had toppled with one end into the dying fire, the tender meat burnt to a char. Benches had overturned and the lights had been dimmed. A mirror stood against one wall, but it remained blank, as if it too had been shocked to the core by the dark events that had struck the castle so suddenly.

I couldn't believe what I had seen. I had suspected a tragic turn to this tale of forbidden love, but to witness such a horrible, unexpected deed had tipped everything upside down.

She had just stood there watching as someone's life, and not just any life but that of her fiancée, ended in fire. The indifference had scared me the most. Maybe as an Assassin she was used to the sight of death by her hand, but this had been someone she had known and intended to marry. How could she just turn away from him, no matter what had happened between them in that lab? I choked back tears and trembled. The murderous glint in the frozen eyes and Remy's last moments of despair were all I could see when I closed my eyes. The phantom pain still lingered in my bones and made me feel weak.

I heard a muffled noise and lifted my head from my knees. It sounded like faint weeping coming from the corner. The mirror then consented to display its instructions though the letters were faint, as if in respect for the dead.

I stood and stoked the fire so as to light the room better before reading the next verse.

"_**A fresh water drink**_

_**Cures tears she cries,**_

_**Bright fire reveals**_

_**What the shadows hide"**_

I looked around, peering into places that had previously been shadowed by the poor lighting. I spied a bucket lying in the corner that I hadn't noticed before. I glanced to the stone well in the middle of the room. With another glance to the mirror, I tied the bucket to the pulley and lowered into the dark depths. I went through the motions like a machine, still shaken.

Bringing it up once more I found a glass on the wooden counter and filled it with the clear liquid. I placed it back down and waited numbly. I watched sorrowfully as the shape of an elderly woman, who I recognized as Tante Mattie, take form and mourn the death of one of her family.

_11:14 AM April 15__th__ 1864_

_The castle was silent. The solemn day after the tragedy dawned gray, rain pouring down mournfully. Servants went about their duties silently, while their masters and their guests tried to reconcile themselves with the sudden events that had occurred while they slept. It affected them all._

_Upstairs, Henri and Mercy both equally wept and mourned for their lost brother and the uncle their first child would never get to meet._

_The guild masters spoke in hushed, saddened tones. They shook their heads; that father and son should meet their ends before they could see their home again was a sad thing._

_Downstairs, the kitchens were emptied of all but one person. Tante Mattie was a tough woman who had never taken nonsense from anyone, Guild or not. She had also been deeply caring, a motherly figure to many she had known; perhaps most of all to a small, auburn-haired boy off the streets that was no more._

_Mattie wept freely. Remy may have been a trouble maker as a child, and no small amount of arrogant as a man, but he had been like a son to her. The elderly woman could remember with all clarity the day she first saw him. Jean-Luc had entered the guild house, calling them together before pulling forward a ragged little boy who had been clinging to his coat tails. Tante Mattie's heart had immediately gone out to the little lad. He couldn't have been over ten, his overgrown hair sticking up in all directions and his grubby fingers twisting as if he itched to grab anything shiny that caught his eye. Despite being bedraggled she had taken the little scamp under her wing, raising him like her own son as she did Henri. But there was always something about Remy that had been just a bit special. He was charming, clever, and humorously friendly in a way that she hadn't seen in anyone else._

_Last night though, he had not been himself. Tante preferred to work and sleep by the kitchens, even though the guild master often offered her a luxury room. But she declined, saying her place was here and her duty to tend to the family. Remy had always been the one to stop by whenever he made his way down to his lab. He would joke, chat, and try to steal snippets of food until she warded the him off with a firm rap with a wooden spoon. Last night had been the only exception. He had stridden by the kitchen without a word, his face furrowed and troubled. He had never looked like that in all the years she had known him, and it worried her. But preparations for the wedding feast in three days' time were already underway, and she had been distracted by her business, giving it no more thought. That had been the last time she saw him. _

_Right at midnight a powerful explosion from the basement shook the castle from its foundations to its tallest tower. The castle had been sleeping, and by the time the inhabitants realized what had happened it was too late. The damage had been done; the laboratory was ruined and Remy's broken body was buried somewhere under the debris._

_Now Tante Mattie sat alone, weeping continuously; now two members of her family were gone forever. _

"_Oh Remy, how could dis have happened t' you?" She whispered in sorrow._

The figure became more and more transparent as I watched. The sadness truly pierced my heart and I could feel tears in my eyes as the weeping woman faded away.

I looked up as the doorway up the stairs swung open and light filtered in. With a new weight in my chest, I ascended and went through.

Emerging back into the dining hall, I was reminded yet again of the fateful explosion. Several of the statues standing over the fireplace had cracked and fallen, flower vases had toppled and spilled the blooms over the floors, chairs from the table had fallen, and dust was spread over everything.

"_**To see what happened**_

_**In the past**_

_**Restore what was damaged**_

_**By the blast."**_

I followed instructions, still with a lingering shock. When the room was as it should be, I dropped into a chair, watching the familiar process begin once more.

_8:12 PM April 15__th__ 1864_

_Anna stood leaning numbly against the dining hall fireplace. The heat and flickering light made her eyes sore, but it didn't matter. She had already wept until she had no more tears to shed; it wasn't like her eyes could look any worse._

_Her world had become much darker in only a day. He was gone. It felt so surreal, so much like a horrible dream she found it difficult to accept. But she knew it was true, for she had seen the basement with her own eyes. There was no way to survive under that much weight, a self-made tomb. She had to accept that Remy, her dearest friend and the man she had come to love was gone forever. She tried to swallow the rock-hard lump lodged in her throat but it remained. Tears welled in her eyes again, but she brushed them away. She wouldn't weep anymore, she had to be strong._

_Anger and self-disgust then flooded her. How selfish she had been to wish the wedding wouldn't take place. She had gotten her wish, but not in a way she would ever want. She felt so utterly helpless that she almost felt life draining from her._

_She glared down at the crumpled piece of paper in her hand: his last note to her. She felt anguish prick at her as she thought how she had cowered from his suggestion to rendezvous. Anna hadn't been sure what to expect, or what she feared most: that he would agree with her and end anything between them, or to admit to how she felt herself. The possibilities that had awaited her in the library at midnight had terrified her, and like the coward she felt she was, she left her farewell note for him there and hid in her room._

_But now he was gone. Anna determined that now that it was over, no one would ever know that she and Remy had loved each other, possibly even renouncing the guilds and shaming their families. His memory should at least remain untarnished. She fingered the emerald pendant around her neck; he had sent it to her for her birthday while she was in Italy two years ago. In rage and grief she ripped it from her neck and tossed it into the smoldering fire._

_As if she had thrown something flammable into it, the fire roared higher, casting her shadow against the wall. The mirror beside the fireplace blackened and cracked slightly in the sudden harsh heat._

_Anna looked away from the fire. With a faint scream she staggered back. Standing in the frame of the smoky glass of the mirror was a spectral figure, one that was extraordinarily familiar: Remy._

_He looked horrible. The flaring light of the fire cast his amber eyes in a bloody light, so the irises seemed to glow red. His long hair was plastered to his dirty forehead with sweat. His clothes were torn, revealing skin rent and ruined by cuts, bruises, and searing burns. He seemed to slouch unevenly and his face was twisted in a mask of pain. His gaze bored into her soul, as if it was desperately trying to communicate something to her._

_Anna felt fear for only a moment, before an irrational joy spread through her despite the image's awful state. She started forward, reaching out to the frightening figure, but as the fire died the image in the mirror faded away into nothing._

_She stopped, her head darting around in desperation looking for him. Nothing could be seen. The grief crept in again and she sank into a chair, holding her head in her hands. Now she was hallucinating so great was her desire to turn back time and bring him back._

_She heaved herself to her feet and nearly sprinted from the room. She needed to get away, and dispose of that note. Anna Marie needed to bury this in the past before it crushed her._

_The Present_

I was being absorbed into the past. That's all I could really describe how I was experiencing everything now. The pain of loss I felt so intensely I could barely breathe. The pain was as much my own as it was hers. Now not only could I hear what the phantoms said out loud, I could somehow tell what they were thinking, feeling, _being_ even. All traces of the passage of time were gone, the castle becoming more real to me with every piece of the puzzle I discovered. I was even beginning to feel like I belonged here; that frightened me most.

But I knew that what I had started I had to finish. The hurt in my chest I felt whenever I grew close to Anna was beyond any pain I had experienced before, but I was willing to endure it for their sake. After so many years, they deserved to have their story known.

The door back down to the basements and kitchens opened once more, and I allowed the castle and the past to consume me even further into their depths.

~.~.~.~.~

**Wolf skater – it seems your question has been answered…or has it?**

**fannut – Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year! I'm hoping this fulfilled, or even exceeded you expectations. The plot's really rolling now.**

**Lady Firewing – thanks for the update in DC2, I'm pretty sure I've guessed Addie's powers. And how was this chapter for a twist?**


	8. Chapter VIII

**So did I shock you all with that plot twist last chapter or what? Don't worry, we're not over yet. Anna and Kitty have yet to find the answers behind his death, and why he appeared to Anna in the mirror. Want to find out? Read on.**

_**Stroke of Midnight**_

_**= Chapter VIII =**_

Even as I reached the kitchen I was still trying to fight away the tears that Anna's sorrow was inflicting on me. I tried to ignore the aching in my chest and focus on what I had to do next. I couldn't hear anymore weeping; in fact, the kitchen was eerily silent.

"_**Light's brightness**_

_**Dazzles eyes**_

_**Deep in darkness**_

_**Secret lies."**_

I shuddered. I found myself wary of the dark, recalling the tomb-like blackness of the cellars. For a moment I hesitated. There must be some way I could continue the story without having to plunge myself into the fearful darkness again. I tried to ask the mirror, but it remained stolid in its instruction.

With a deep breath I began to stifle any light in the room, keeping my mind focused on the job and not on my pounding heart. Drawing another full bucket from the well I doused the flames from the roasting pit. One by one, I blew out every candle until only one remained. I froze, my gut screaming to leave it lit. With a gasping intake of air I snuffed the last candle out of existence and the night descended like a waiting bird of prey.

_8:52 PM April 15__th__ 1864_

_Tante__ Mattie lay in her small sleeping alcove just adjacent to the kitchens. She normally fell to sleep quite quickly, but even though she had gone to bed far earlier than normal, she just couldn't sleep. Not tonight. _

_The elderly woman allowed her mind to recall the many memories of Remy, Henri, and the other guild boys. She smiled forlornly at the bittersweet memories. She sighed. Mattie would always miss and mourn for the boy, but the funeral was soon to be held; his family would never forget him, but the tragedy would have to be put behind them. No one could dwell forever on the past._

_Tante Mattie lifted her head, listening. She thought she had heard something from the kitchens. After a time of silence she laid back; it must have just been a mouse._

_Then she could clearly hear the rather deep thump. With a twinge of fear Mattie rose from the bed, clutching her nightgown and a lit candle in her hand. She lifted her arm and allowed the weak candlelight to shed over the kitchen. It was empty._

_A hollow thud, loud and deep, sounded behind the woman, who whipped around as her trembling fingers clutched the candle. She was facing the wall, where a single large painting hung. It seemed to have stood there for ages: the colors of the landscape picture had long since faded, and the canvas and frame were slowly being covered with kitchen grime. But something strange was happening. The painting seemed to drift away from the wall slowly, opening like a door, revealing a sliver of an even darker blackness beyond it. She heard a moan and, around the opening, terribly burned fingers grasped the wood, the dried blood and damaged red skin shining gruesomely in the candle light._

_Tante Mattie stumbled back, crossing herself and muttering French in terror as Remy's ghostly pale face emerged from behind the painting. Demon eyes with black rings beneath them gleamed fitfully in the faint light, accented awfully with the rivulets of blood staining his cheeks. The damaged arm moved further around the door as the terrifying sight prepared to step fully into the kitchen._

_With a strangled screech of terror Mattie dropped the candle, reaching for a charm to warn of spirits and voodoo that hung at her neck. The candle rolled to a stop at the bottom of the painting. With a flare, the painting was set alight._

_The ghoulish figure shrank away from the light, disappearing back the way it had come. Mattie wasted no time in slamming the painting back against the wall and murmuring, shaking uncontrollably. A plaintive cry that sent chills running down her spine sounded behind it before fading into silence. Tante Mattie might have been a tough woman, but even she could not withstand the horror at what she had seen. She fainted dead away._

Even I couldn't suppress the absolute terror at the sight of the ghostly Remy, his worldly injuries disfiguring him into an almost monster-like appearance. The poor old woman shrieked frantically, the candle catching the edge of the old painting. It flickered brightly for a moment, causing the image to retreat into the darkness.

When the ghosts vanished once more, the kitchen grew dark again. The only light was coming from the mirror.

"_**Was he ghost?**_

_**Or was he real?**_

_**Bring the light**_

_**And path reveal."**_

It took me very little time to discover a candle on the corner of one of the table. Using a smoldering coal from the dimmed stove, a small flame flickered up from the stem. I crept to the painting in the corner, more than a little afraid of what I might find.

I was only a few feet away when the flame on the candle went crazy. The small ball of fire leapt from the candle and spread over the painting. I fell backwards as a wave of heat washed over me, before the painting disintegrated into a pile of ashes. I wasn't entirely surprised to see a dark, small door. After a few jerks I was able to wrench the door open and follow a narrow yet high passage.

I squeezed down the passage, wondering where it was leading me. I seemed to be heading down a slope almost. It was a long walk, but I at last reached another matching door.

I stepped into a decimated room. Rocks had tumbled down over a doorway at the other end of the room, and the furniture was laid askew over the room. Burns and ash streaks traced the walls. The few tables that still stood were covered in scientific equipment. I was in the demolished lab. I tried not to look at the pile of rubble blocking the main doorway. I tried not to imagine what might be buried there.

"_**Practice trade**_

_**Of young thief passed**_

_**To witness cause**_

_**Of fateful blast."**_

I squealed as blasts of many-colored smokes erupted from the one standing table, clearing to reveal chemical powders, mixing equipment, and small weights. There was also an old distilling pipe and wheel, as well as a set of brass scales. A scroll of yellowed parchment, stained with coal dust and other substances, was laid beneath several crystal bottles of ingredients. The recipe was labeled gunpowder.

"Gunpowder?" I asked incredulously of the mirror. By now though, I didn't really believe that the directions would change. Only the directions the castle gave me would unlock the past and tell me the entire tale.

I stared for a moment in befuddlement at the array of ingredients. There was coal, manganese, copper, sulfur, and other unpronounceable names stamped on ancient bottles that I honestly couldn't tell from one another. I leaned down, the only room a candle or two, and examined the damaged recipe. With unsure fingers, which weren't good omens for my first crack at making gunpowder of all things, I began to mix the ingredients. I weighed the various ingredients by the ounces, rather frightened that I might be mixing my own explosive death together. I could still see those oily flames flickering behind my eyelids.

Soon, a bowl of oddly golden liquid sat on the table. I closed my eyes. I had begun to recognize the approaching visions of the past. I could smell sulfur and chalk in the air, as well as the room growing warmer and less damp. When I opened them again, the damage to the room was gone. My eyes flew wider. This was new as well. With each vision things were becoming more and more realistic.

All the furniture was upright and in perfect condition. Despite being a stone basement, everything was spic and span, and the scientific equipment and chemical ingredients were lined up neatly along the counters and tables.

When I looked down, the floor seemed a little farther away than it usually did. Then I saw that my body didn't seem familiar. My hands were larger, longer, and with tan skin. My arms were muscular and I saw dark bronze hair falling in my eyes. Most of all, my own thoughts were shoved from my mind and into those of someone else.

_His hands fumbled unconsciously with the ingredients, his eyes hardly glancing to his work. Instead, his ears were trained on the clanging of the castle clocks, sounding a quarter to midnight. At midnight, he would meet Anna. His stomach twisted painfully, wondering what would happen if she should refuse. Remy shook his head. He had to make her see that if they went forward with the Guilds' wishes then they would be miserable for the rest of their lives. He could never begin to describe his happiness, finding something that hadn't been dictated by his father or family, his love for a woman who was kind, beautiful, strong, and smart. She he marry Bella, he wouldn't be able to describe the pain._

_He had to go through with this, before he ended up chained down for the rest of his years, tied so deep into the guild that there was no escape from its politics and dealings. _

_For a moment, Remy allowed himself to fantasize about what would happen if, hope of all hopes, that she loved him just as much as he loved her. He couldn't help but grin as he thought out an almost desperado tale, much like the ones they would read out loud on summer days when there was nothing else to do. They would bind their hearts forever, in the warm and romantic old library, and then they would make plans to escape like the rogues they had always been. Perhaps they would sneak out before the crack of dawn, commandeer the finest horse in the stables, and ride until the miles were enough to put their restrained life styles behind forever. Of course, Remy loved his family and being a thief, but he felt chained. He couldn't survive forever under the rules and rivalries, and he had lately been dreaming of freedom beyond the proverbial stone walls of the guild._

_He imagined with pleasure what the first day together as a free thief and assassin girl would be like. Maybe they would hide during the days in hay barns and water mills, and travel for hours on his favorite black stallion under the stars. Maybe they would make their way to France; work jobs to earn their fortunes, eventually settle down, and they would live together in happiness, and there might even be children down that road. It was a future that suddenly seemed like a dream, and a most glorious dream it was. Now he longed for it more than anything else._

_He was so deep in his fantasies and his nearly forgotten work that he didn't notice her approach, until smooth and deceptively powerful hands slammed down on the stained wood. The nails were painted a bloody red._

_Remy looked up to meet Belladonna's frigid eyes. Her voice was dangerously low as she replied in a sickly sweet voice._

"_Ya know __Mon__chère__, walkin' away from dinner like day doesn't really reflect well on our image, 'specially not 'round the other guilds." She raised one perfect eyebrow and her lips twitched in anger. "What were ya thinkin' ya damn fool? If this marriage or the guilds mean anything t' you, that kinda behavior is unacceptable."_

_Remy inhaled, his eyes flashing in anger for a moment. Then he paused. He couldn't deny the ominous look in the blonde's eyes; maybe it was better just to remain calm._

"_Just been a little preoccupied Bella. Don' worry, dese t'ings will be finished by de wedding."_

_Bella stayed leaning against the table. "Preoccupied wit' what exactly?"_

_Remy felt a wave of uneasiness wash through him, but his blank face was as perfect as ever. "Jus' weddin' stuff Bella."_

_Those cold blue eyes narrowed in fury, and her iron-hard fist slammed down on the table, before the fingers separated to reveal a crushed ball of paper. "Jus' weddin' stuff, eh? Then this has nothin t' do with Anna?"_

_Remy's lips tightened as he recognized his note, asking Anna to meet him. One glance at Belle and he knew there would be no concealing the truth now. He knew that whatever he told her would not leave this room; Bella cared too much for her reputation among the guilds. What really mattered was what the capable woman would do with her own hands. But he couldn't back out now; it was time for him to say it out right._

"_If y' know already Belle, why you comin' down here?"_

_She hissed venomously. "Cause I wanted t' hear y' say it, ya filthy sneak thief! Do ya know what this would mean if anyone found out y' were involved wit' dat little hussy sister o' mine? Dis marriage is invaluable, an' if you screw it up…"_

"_Belle," he spoke up quietly, but with a solemn finality that put a stop to her rant. "I don' love you. I never have; an' I fail t' see how you could love Remy. Anna…she's made Remy happier den he's ever been. I wish de best for y' Bella, but this is what I want. I'm not goin' through wit' dis."_

_Belladonna reeled back as if he'd slapped her. Her face held shock for a moment, before it became murderous. Remy drew himself up straight, discreetly reaching for a knife used for slicing roots for medicine ingredients. Belle glared at him, before she whipped around and stormed from the room._

_Remy let out a breath. He had expected a more vehement reaction, but he couldn't deny his relief. His nose twitched. Something smelled off. With a twinge of panic his gaze locked on the table. The candle on the table had been tipped over by Bella's dramatic exit, and now the flame was devouring the small piles of spilled firework ingredients._

_He yelled, about to lunge for the door, when an explosion went up. He was propelled backwards, slamming his back painfully against the wooden counter against the wall. Remy cried out in pain as a loud crack from a splintered rib echoed in his ears. _

_For a moment he was pressed to the floor by the sudden pain racking his body: the rib was throwing hot waves through every muscle fiber, thorn-sharp pieces of glass were digging deep into his skin, and he could feel blood staining the russet hair at the back of his head. With a shriek of protesting limbs, he hauled himself first to his knees and then to his feet. With breath rasping through his teeth, he limped toward the door. He was just under the awning when a terrifying groan shuddered through the roof above him. Looking upward, he saw debris falling in a torrent. His cry was crushed from his lungs by the agonizing weight. The pain was unbelievable, the agony causing black spots to swim before his eyes. He didn't think he could last. But strangely, all he could think of in this dark moment was fiery hair, and gem-like green eyes. What was also odd was that he could almost see a doorway, cool and devoid of the torturous flames, opening just within sight of his dimming eyes…_

I jerked up, shaky and sweating. I was sitting on the floor right in front of the pile of rocks blocking the entrance. I really didn't like this new form of experiencing the past. Beside the pain and the sharing of emotions, the feelings I was picking up from the phantoms were staying inside of me. I could still feel the fury that Belladonna had contained, the pain Anna had previously felt in the hours after Remy's death, and the nervous euphoria Remy had experienced in the few moments before his demise. I could still feel the pain of it all.

But what hurt most were Remy's memories in those last minutes. It was absolutely tragic how excited he had been for the future he could see with Anna. Two misfits had become best friends, and then lovers, yet it had ended as horribly as it had. They would never be able to realize fully what they felt for the other, or what could have been theirs if Remy had lived to see another dawn.

I wiped away tears, some born from the past and some born from my own heart. I felt a sudden hatred toward Belladonna. How could she not have seen, or cared, about the happiness before her, killing it mercilessly like one would squish a bug. I clenched my fists; I was determined now to know everything, and most importantly to see that Anna knew how Remy had died, how he had been thinking of her in his last moments. Even though these players were long gone, this story wasn't over, and it was my job to finish it.

XXX

**Review Responses**

**PeachesandCream-6695 – Thanks for the idea, but this is all modeled after the plot of an App game I have which I thought would make a great parody/romance. So not all credit is due to me, just the interpreting the story into writing bit. And I don't like killing Remy either, but that's the story and it makes it all the more exciting to read.**

**Lady Firewing – you know, most people including myself expect Rogue to be the first to die in these kinds of things. I honestly don't know why. But yes, I threw you a twist and more are coming your way.**

**Wolf skater – Yes, I'm an evil dangler. It's what I do ;D**

**Forgottenparachutes – Thank you and I'm flattered that the story was enough to stall homework. Who am I kidding, I'd rather read any type of fanfiction than do homework, but I'm glad nonetheless. I also really enjoy your story and am anxiously waiting to read more. Keep reading and keep writing!**


	9. Chapter IX

_**Stroke of Midnight**_

_**= Chapter IX =**_

My eyes blinked open. I wasn't all that surprised to see that I had been transported. It wasn't as shocking once I knew what to expect from the unexplainable phenomenon: how when my eyes had drifted closed they had weighted like only the heaviest sleep could instill, and the fading of all sound and sense of touch.

When I awoke though, I was shocked by this completely new location. My rear was planted firmly on a decorated tile of jade, cream, and pale blue coloring. I was stationed on a walkway of some sort: a short set of stairs were right in front of me, leading around a bending pathway. It was edged by rails, and beyond the parapet was emptiness. Above my head the roof was all glass crisscrossed with dark ivy leaves, the transparent dome allowing me an unobstructed view of the darkly roiling storm clouds that festered in the night sky overhead. That was when I recognized where I was. Creeping over to the parapet I stared down. At least five stories below me was the greenhouse floor, placing me on the top ring of balconies which were formerly inaccessible because of the broken staircase.

I pulled away, slightly dizzy. I wasn't afraid of heights but that stone banister was pretty old; who knew when it could crack and send me plummeting to a nasty end. Looking around, I noticed that scattered about were traces of the explosion, even here at the castle's highest point. Several fallen vases had scattered ceramic and stone over the tile floor, and the floor itself was run with several cracks.

Directly behind me, a full length mirror was flanked by two identical doors of dark wood. The only differences between them were the images in the stained glass pictures on them. The door on the right cradled a glass image of a rose, perfect in petal and shape. It was surrounded by a background of royal blue with pale star and crescent moon images. The door on the left was similar, but the summer green background held a gleaming pink-pearl rose hip in its center instead.

"_**Rose or Rose-hip**_

_**Up to you to decide."**_

The mirror wasn't wasting time on pointless riddles now. The key to events lay behind one of these doors, and it was obvious which one I should choose. As my hand grasped the iron handle to the left doorway, I felt a presence; it was wreathed in a scent of a summer meadow and sweet rose-hip, but it was all masked in sadness: Anna.

_9:32 PM April 15__th__ 1864_

_It was strange, but only yesterday Anna's greatest worry was the upcoming wedding. It had hurt badly, but this was ten times worse. But she was strong, both trained so and born so, and there was nothing to be done now. She would have to move on and, if not forget, than accept and embrace. Now all that was left was burying the affair for good. Bella, who she had no doubt was well aware of the feelings between Remy and herself, would never tell a soul. Reputation was far too important to her sister; it was guaranteed no one would discover that the Prince of Thieves had been willing to abort the arranged marriage for the lady in waiting. She had to get rid of her goodbye note._

_Her slippered feet made her steps silent as she climbed the stone stairs in the greenhouse toward the library. The only sound she made was the faint rustling of her simple, silvery dress as she ascended._

_She reached the identical doors and another pang shot through her chest as she beheld the rose-hip image._

_At the moment she pulled the heavy door open, it seemed to Anna that she sensed someone else's presence. Just for a short moment, Anna detected friendly support that was steadfast but mourned equally standing just behind her. She swiftly glanced behind, her green-fire gaze sweeping over the balcony and finding nothing. Strange. Turning back around again, Anna slipped into the dark library._

A started a bit as Anna's form materialized in front of me. It was the closest I had ever been to one of the shades, and at this proximity I saw even more clearly how lovely Anna had been. But her eyes were dampened and lost. Her head turned, a spark of awareness crossing her face and darting back through me. Could she see me? Her roving eyes didn't detect me, but I somehow felt that she had touched on my presence over the seas of time, just like I could feel hers. I followed her through the doorway.

The library was very romantic and had a spirit of mystery and wisdom to it, accentuated even more by the faint golden glow of several small candles. Bookcases were everywhere, climbing into the dark reaches of the high ceiling. Quiet noises echoed softly through the room, dissolving quickly among the old parchments, books, and manuscripts. It was the most perfect example of a library I could imagine.

Anna's image was gone, not a trace of her luminescent shape anywhere. A reflection in a glass door of a covered bookcase read:

"_**Old books keep unexpected secrets."**_

"What old books? Where do I start looking?" I glanced around dismayed. There were literally thousands of books here, and all were well past the title of old. Was I expected to search every one?

Descending the stairway into the main floor of the library, I searched for further clues. I dug through every nook and cranny, climbing over piles of books left on the floor, holding a procured candle into the shadows.

I reached the last reading nook far in the back of the vast room and its mazes of shelves. It was dark, but the candle's light chased the blackness back. As I held it up, the flame trembled for a moment and then snuffed out. I was plunged into the dark.

"Oh damn," I hissed, backtracking out of there as swiftly as I could. I still wasn't all that comfortable with the dark. Relighting the candle, I ventured back in again. Again, the flame trembled as if caught in an air draught. Wait…there was an air draught. A small and chilly leak of air was seeping towards me from the direction of the bookcases on the right of me.

I placed my candle on an old desk out of the wind, before approaching the book-lined wall. I placed my hand against the crack between the bookcases. Sure enough, the cold draught was blowing steadily from between the wooden paneling. My heart rate picked up. Was there another secret passageway behind the bookcases?

I pushed and pulled on the tall wooden frames but they wouldn't move. I guess the key was still in the books. Stepping back, I examined the gathered tomes carefully. There was a vast collection of many varied books, but there were five that were nearly identical. They were thick, dusty volumes with golden Roman numerals marking their spines. I smirked. I had seen enough episodes of Scooby Doo and cheesy mystery movies to know what this meant.

I found the book inscribed with the numeral one and pressed it in gently. Like I expected, it slid inward and I could hear a metallic grinding like the slide of a rusty bolt. All too easy.

_10:04 PM April 15__th__ 1864_

_Anna sat in the deep chair behind the desk in the farthest corner of the library, tears running down her face. After tonight, everything would need to be place behind her, left behind as a hindrance to her future. But just for tonight, she let the feelings flow freely before she locked them away. In her hands she held the farewell note that she had retrieved from the desk. She had intended to return to her room right after she retrieved it and burn it in the fireplace, but now that she was here, she couldn't leave. Over the winter months four years ago when it was wet and cold outside, she and Remy would mostly be found here scouring the shelves and talking in soft voices. This was where they would always come; it was their own little spot. On days where they could hear storms raging outside and inside among the Thieves and Assassins, the pair were sequestered in their respective chairs. Anna would often read fantasy tales while Remy would pour over books on chemistry and thieving arts. Sometimes they would read out loud, but the nicest times were simply spent in companionable silence. Their little corner felt empty without him._

_Anna passed her hand absently over the polished wood of the desktop. Here was the book Remy must have been reading before that dinner, the last time she had seen him. She knew he had read it, because there were small sooty marks on the pages from his work in his lab. She stared blankly at the hand drawn pictures of herbs and plants, a wooden slate used for taking notes beside the open book. She glanced at the slate for a moment. It had mathematical calculations on it, but they looked odd. There was some irregularity in the five equations marked on it, the numbers on the left unequal to the Roman numerals on the right._

_Anna sighed, knowing she was grasping at any small detail to take her mind off of her absent friend and lover, but again and again, she couldn't stop her thoughts from going back to that tragic moment. Was there anything she could have done, anything she could have changed, to have spared his life? Even if the wedding would have taken place, if he was alive now it wouldn't matter._

_She lowered her head to the desk, angry and despairing at the same time. She was so deep in her thoughts she could almost hear his voice begging for help. She gruffly shook her head and wiped away the tears. It was time to leave this place and stop torturing herself with what might have been. She stood and turned to leave, her head hanging low. Then she froze, her ears trained hard. The sound of faint moaning she heard was not her imagination! Spinning, she heard it clearly coming from behind the bookcase. Approaching hesitantly, almost afraid of what she would find, she placed her ear to the shelves and whispered in reluctant hope._

"_Remy?"_

_There was silence. She sighed, her heart breaking all over again, before the faintest voice, the barest whisper, answered her back._

"_Anna…"_

_It was her name, breathed by the voice she had thought never to hear again._

"_Remy? Remy, are you there?" she called out, her voice rising shakily. The faint answering thump against wood gave her the answer. Nearly crying in joy and fear, she slammed against the bookcases, desperate to push them away and reach the weak voice on the other side. The heavy frames wouldn't budge an inch. _

_The trembling voice behind the bookcases continued to murmur her name before it began to fall silent. Anna felt panic rise in her throat as she threw herself into the task wildly, not willing to let him slip away again. She pulled, kicked, and hammered blindly, unable to think in her fey determination to reach him._

_At last, she was able to settle herself enough to allow coherent thought. How could it be that he had survived? Realistically it was impossible, but…the castle was very old and Remy had shown her several secret passageways he had discovered in their time there. It had become a sort of game between them, trying to find the hidden corridors and doorways. Perhaps there was a passage hidden in the laboratory that led upstairs. Her eyes widened as she recalled the hideous image of Remy she had seen downstairs in the dining hall. That must have really been him, hidden just behind the glass. But a new panic flared, recalling how injured he had appeared. A new pressure emerged as she restarted her search to open the passage. _

I was there beside the ghost as she searched frantically for a way toward the man she loved. I was having a hard time pushing back the panicked emotions that I could feel radiating from the presence as I tried to figure out the code. There were quite a few of the numeral stamped books on the shelves, and the correct order eluded me. I had to step back in order to concentrate. My eyes fell to a slate resting on the desk. I had noticed the odd equations before, but only now did I realize the significance. I seized it and studied it carefully. At first, the random and incorrect combinations puzzled me, but at last I figured it out: the equations' real answers would always come out in order from lowest to highest. The first problem's correct answer was one, but it was marked with the Roman numeral five. The first book to be pressed in needed to be numeral five. Triumph flooded me as I rushed back to complete the puzzle, my fervor for my task all encompassing.

_Anna sat with her mind racing, silently begging something to give her the answer. Suddenly, she felt that presence again, the understanding one she had sensed outside the library. It calmed her and allowed her to think. Without conscious decision, her head turned to the slate on the desk, like the answer was being whispered to her by that comforting presence. Raking her eyes over the equations in swift memorization, she leapt back up and pressed the books in order. With a groan and hiss, the bookcases slid apart to reveal a black maw. It daunted her not, and with a silent thank you to that presence, Anna stepped in and allowed the darkness to swallow her._

I watched the bookcases slide apart to reveal the large doorway. Anna's image drifted forward, relief coloring the air behind her. For just a moment she glanced back, and I thought her eyes met mine. There was gratitude there, but she still didn't seem to see me. I was right on her heel as the two of us, one of the past and one of the present, moved on.

XXX

**Well, I'm back after a bit of a break. The start of school always siphons my creative juices and it takes a while to get back into the swing. There should be another chapter on Friday for you all, so if this one is a little short more will be coming soon. Great to be back!**

**Review Responses:**

**Wolf skater – keep in your seat, we still have a few chapters to go. I don't particularly like Bella myself, but I didn't want to turn Jean into a witch so she was the best option. And don't give up hope for our ROMY yet.**

**Lady Firewing – Well, I see you have your answer now. It's been an honor to have both you and Wolf skater as such faithful reviewers, and I'm glad you like this story. And I'm still waiting to see Isi give Julian a thrashing! Eagerly anticipating that!**


	10. Chapter X

_**Stroke of Midnight**_

_**= Chapter X =**_

This new passage, though dark, was not very long. I soon found a light wooden door blocking my way, which I easily pushed aside to permit me entrance into the small room. When I did, I tried not to double over gasping.

The room was filled with agony and pain; the awful feelings might as well have been oozing down the walls and staining the floor like blood, the physical anguish was so intense. I could feel it in everything, like a dense fog clouding around me. I clapped my hands to my ears against the groans that filled the room, and my eyes widened as I saw bloody traces everywhere. These were not old stains, dry and brown with only a hint of their former menace. These traces were brand new, bloody hand prints shining darkly and sinisterly on walls and floor. I struggled to disconnect myself somewhat from the past. With titanic effort, the traces of blood faded a little and the pain in the air decreased.

Most of the blood led to a bed strewn with rumpled sheets, the white linen gruesomely spattered with garish crimson. The lights wavered and I watched the two figures appear, their pain my own.

_10:49 PM April 15__th__ 1864_

_Anna sat hunched in a small chair, desperately holding his hand. She still couldn't quite believe it, that he was here before her and not dead. Apparently, the secret passageway in his lab had cracked open in the explosion, allowing him enough time to wrench himself free of the rubble pile and get free of the fire and explosions. That was a miracle in itself, but that he had been able to drag himself through the tunnels and alert her to his presence was an even greater feat. She had found him unconscious in the tunnel behind the bookcase, having used the last of his strength to call out to her before passing out._

_Anna still wasn't sure how she had managed to break the books' code, but she had. Somehow, she owed it to that strange invisible presence. It had guided her to the answer. Even now she sensed it at almost every moment. In the library, she imagined that presence spoke to her in a soft female voice, not much older than herself. She felt that this voice had prompted her to solve the riddle. _

_But now she could spare little thought to that small miracle. All her focus was now on Remy. Her euphoria at their reunion was dampened by new fear. He lay on the bed, his uneven breath rasping like sandpaper from his throat. Anna scanned him, feeling her throat clench as she observed all the injuries. She had done her best to remedy the burns and lacerations all over his skin, but she knew there were internal injuries as well. The heat flowing from him and the redness burning in his cheeks testified to a serious fever._

_Anna held onto his hand, debating what to do. She had to bring his fever down; he had lost so much blood that a long lasting fever could be deadly. She wasn't proficient in healing others, and she decided she would have to find someone who could heal him. She was loath to leave him alone, and dreaded what would happen once he was found alive. Surely after his recovery they would again force his marriage to Belladonna. But his life was more important to her._

_Anna moved to cover Remy with a blanket before she left, but at the moment she released his hand, she felt that same shaking but strong hand grip it tightly. She glanced with down with worried surprise as his eyes, almost glowing that abnormal maroon with sickness, locked with hers. Despite the eerie coloring, they were soft and filled with love. It was such a blatant show of emotions from him that she stuttered, unable to say anything. No one had ever looked at her like that before._

_His voice croaked, but his words were clear as he continued to stare into her eyes. _

"_Anna…I love you chère. Always did since dat ball night four years ago. Don't know why I never said it before." He coughed roughly, and then sighed wearily. His fingers, like branding irons because of the fever, entwined with hers and squeezed gently. He smiled, and she saw the man she had met on that New Year's night. "You're my rose hip-pure, mon belle, an' as innocent as its flower. It's what I always loved most 'bout y'. If Remy doesn't make it…"_

"_Shut up you!" Anna unexpectedly cried out. "Don't start dictatin' your goodbye speech. Don't you go fixin' to die," she pleaded in anger and fear. He smiled weakly with amusement at her outburst. It was so Anna. _

"_If dis be de last time we truly together, s'il vous plait, jus' remember de night we met when y' look at our flower once in a while." She felt something soft slip into her palm and heard a crinkle of paper. She glanced down at her hand, which now held a small bloom of rose hip and a folded note. _

_Opening the note and mechanically refolding it to reveal its message, she read the words. Her auburn head darted up and she stared at him. He gazed steadily into her eyes._

"_I trust you Anna. Go; I'll be waitin' for y'." _

_A new determination settled on her features and she tried once again to stand. But he held on firmly and pulled her back down until they were nearly nose to nose._

"_Je t'aime mon cœur." _

_She allowed her tears of fear and love fall as their lips met. She had read in the epic tales where kisses such as these, on the possible brink of eternity between lovers, were fiery and passionate, filled with words that the two could never have said aloud. This wasn't like those. It was soft, peaceful, and even though the flames of his fever burned her lips, she never wanted to let go. His fingers caressed her throat as gently as one would touch a baby, and she brushed the sweat dampened bangs from his forehead. It was not a long kiss and did not convey every secret word that the heart could hold. This kiss simply said 'I love you.'_

_She pulled away and saw his feverish eyes shining with a quiet joy that none could surpass. Anna smiled before withdrawing, her eyes locked with his._

"_I'll be back soon Remy." Then she turned and disappeared with a rush back down the corridor._

_He sighed, settling into the pillows to wait. "An' I'll wait for you chère. As long as it takes."_

I heard Remy whisper his words and smile before the shade faded out and left the room empty. All that was left of the encounter was the note he had left her. What was written on it that had caused Anna to rush out so suddenly?

I scooped it up, frustrated at how complicated the folding looked. But I told myself to calm down, the residual feelings of the phantoms still lingering in my system. I relaxed, calling up the knowledge I felt from Anna to help figure out the message. Fold the left corner, tuck the top right, turn over, and refold the left…

At last I figured it out. The message was brief, but sent hope thrilling through me. _The medicine recipe is on page 83 in the book. Our corner, library._

There was still a chance. The letter gave me hope that I…I mean, Anna, could save him. I shook my head. I was becoming so muddled that it was difficult to puzzle out whether I was Anna or Kitty. Normally this would worry me, but this was my mission just as much as hers now. As swiftly as she, I darted from the room chasing hope.

~.~.~.~.~

I burst back into the library, panting after my wild sprint. My panicky instincts were extra jumpy now; I thought I could hear a timer ticking at the back of my head. But then I saw the hanging clock in the library, which until now like all the other clocks only chimed midnight, was now unfrozen. The hands marched ominously across the clock face, counting the seconds up to the newest midnight hour.

As I darted towards the desk, I could feel Anna's spirit running right beside me. I couldn't see her at the moment, but I felt her as keenly as if she were made of flesh and blood. Thoughts that must have belonged to her were clouding with mine, until we were more of a joint person than two individuals with the same purpose.

_Anna collapsed against the desk, not bothering to slow her momentum. Her eyes latched on the book that had his fingerprints on them, and she pulled it toward her. She rifled carelessly through the worn pages in her search. Page 74, 79, 80, 82, 84…wait, she flickered back in confusion. Where was page eighty three? She flipped to where it should have been and nearly cried out in frustration. The text on the page was unreadable, for it had been shredded into small pieces. The edges of the pieces bore the marks of rats' teeth. _

I cringed at the flash of panic and fury as I, and apparently Anna, discovered the ruined page. "Don't panic Anna," I said without thinking. Once it was said, I didn't much care. I knew how to do this; after all, it was how I started this venture. With a sharp eye and efficient hands I began to reconstruct the pieces.

_It was like a warm ocean wave lapping over Anna's head, the sudden sense of ease and reasoning. She took a deep breath, thanking the mysterious presence for its company. The pretty female voice seemed to echo in her head, telling her to be calm and use her mind. Her fingers drifted over the paper fragments and deftly began to examine and then realign them. She tried to ignore the steady passage of time and just concentrate._

At last I finished, Anna with me I felt. Without acknowledging how I knew, we both bent simultaneously to read the recipe that held Remy's salvation.

**Anti-fever Medicine:**

Take 3 **rose-hip berries **(5 portions)

Based on their weight add:

1 portion of **peppermint leaves**

1.5 portion of **coal powder**

3 portions of **dry chamomile flowers**

3.5 portions of **sugar**

Pour in 1 glassful of **water**

Fill the rest of bowl with **wine**

Add 1 drop of **eucalyptus oil**

Boil until mixture is evaporated and gather distillate in vial.

_Anna gulped. It was a lot, but she was sure she knew where to find all of the ingredients. She didn't know why she didn't call out for help with her task, but she somehow felt that this was her task to complete. No one else could do this but her. Well, her and the friendly presence. Hoping that her invisible guide stayed with her, she jotted the recipe swiftly down on spare paper and dashed from the library. Remy was depending on her._

The clock ticked on as I pursued Anna from the room and out. The halls were blurred like underwater images, and I seemed to be covering large distances in short time. Occasionally a pale silvery blue flicker of a ghostly frock or a lock of pale auburn hair showed me where Anna was, but we both seemed to know where we were going without having to think about it. The never ending ticking from every clock was driving me insane, as well as the thoughts I was picking up from Anna's phantom. Or were they mine?

"_**I won't make it in time…No, I have to! If there's the smallest chance, I'm going to do everything possible."**_

Before I knew it we were back on the greenhouse's ground floor. It had lost its enchantment over me as I was focused on what it contained, plants that could preserve life. Herbs and flowers were no longer sources of eye-pleasing beauty, they were life lines.

_Anna refused to think that she might be too late. The support from her unseen companion was strong, and it hardened her resolve. She didn't stop once she reached the greenhouse. She knew well where the rose-hip bush lay, and she dove in with reckless abandon. Disregarding the stings of hawthorns that pricked her fingers and brought forth droplets of blood, she dug through the bush and collected a small pile of bright red berries. Before she had left the room that Remy was laid in, she had snatched a small woven satchel from the bedside table. Into this she poured the berries before delving back into the bushes, searching for peppermint. Branches and thorns snagged her dress and hair, but she ignored it all. Using her nose as well as her eyes, she found a small patch of peppermint stalks sprouting from the black soil. She ripped them out carelessly, dirt still clinging to the roots, and waded back out._

I winced at the stinging scratches all over me from rooting around in the shrubs, but I couldn't stop. Snatching a pinch of dried chamomile flowers from a bowl on one of the wooden tables, I followed the flicker of Anna's presence down the hallway leading to the dining hall.

_Anna forged through the dark hallway. There should still be some ingredients she needed on the table after that last dinner before the explosion. No one had bothered to come down for a full meal since then, most meals held in bed chambers. Why, oh why had Bella insisted on those blasted fireworks?_

Tick, tock, tick, tock. It was starting to fray on my nerves, that incessant ticking. In the back of my head I could feel the storm of emotions that was the connection I shared with Anna. I managed to keep my cool. I didn't even speculate on it anymore, this strange bond we had forged through the mists of time. I could feel her, and she could feel me; it was as simple as that. Whenever she would appear she would glance behind, and her eyes seemed to meet mine. In fact, I was repeating all of her actions and movements, even when I couldn't see her. We were indelibly linked.

The table still held remnants of that celebratory feast, left there by a staff occupied with plans of a far more somber nature.

A glass of water and a pitcher of wine were deftly seized. I was concentrating so hard on my task that I jumped startled when a familiar golden flash blinked alive in the mirror.

"_**Dark passages lead to what you seek."**_

For a moment I was confused, before realizing what it meant. The only place I could make the medicine would be in Remy's lab. The main entrance had been blocked by the rock fall, so the only way in was by a hidden passage. I remembered when Anna saw Remy's image framed in the mirror. I didn't know how to open this door, but I had a key already.

I glanced around at the castle walls. "Sorry about this." I stooped down, picking up a thick and heavy stone that had broken free of the fireplace. Hefting it up, I threw it as hard as possible at the mirror, grunting with exertion. The crystalline shards and fiery letters exploded in a waterfall of glinting pieces, rainbows dancing off the cascade. The action left me somehow empowered, as if throwing things really did help. A cramped, twisting staircase lay beyond the mess of glass.

_Anna descended the stairwell two steps at a time, her arms clutching the precious ingredients tightly. She didn't care that if she were to trip she would surely crack her head open. She didn't care that she, an Assassin, had broken a mirror in a Thieves guild house. All that mattered was preparing this medicine. They could throw her in a lake after this for all she cared; she just needed to do this._

_Before she knew it, she was pushing past a half buried doorway on the opposite side of the room from the main doorway._

My brown hair was sticking up all over my head. After digging through bushes, climbing over rubble, and traversing cobwebbed passages, I'm sure I looked anything but the picture of beauty. At the time, it was the last thing on my mind.

The eucalyptus oil and coal were easy enough to find, kept in bottles and containers on the counter farthest from the blast damage. I went back to stand by the table where the instruments for brewing the medicine were. The equipment I was supposed to use looked right out of Jekyll and Hyde, all kinds of beakers and a distillation pipe placed along the table. Thankfully, I knew roughly how to use them, and hoped my knowledge would help Anna.

_Her invisible companion was a great comfort to Anna, seeming to guide her hands around the equipment that she had no idea how to use. One after another the ingredients, liquidized within the water and wine, were dropped into the glass distilling bowl. With an unexplained new urgency quickening her darting fingers, Anna turned the stone wheel that started the distillation. Static crackled along the wheel as it started to work, the burner flaring to life. Steady drips trickled through a tube and into a small vial. At last, it was filled with a pale amber liquid. It was ready_.

I watched Anna's image pick up the vial and cradle it to her chest like it was the most precious treasure in the world. To her, maybe it was. My heart was hammering along with the echo of Anna's racing pulse; there was time left, I could feel it. I could see the door that Remy had managed to escape through during the rock fall. With a new vigor, we both flew for the door, the clocks ticking ever louder.

Midnight was upon us.

**We've reached the climax! What will happen? I'm kinda sad, the story's almost over; only two more chapters and the last one is the epilogue. Oh well, all things must come to an end right?**

**Wolf skater – Even more so in this chapter right? Climax!**

**Lady Firewing – Yes, you were indeed right. I had the same reaction when I played the game **

**PeachesandCream-6695 – Updated duly, but unfortunately another cliff hanger. Resolution will come next Friday!**

**Next Friday, stay tuned for the concluding chapters of **_**The Stroke of Midnight.**_


	11. Chapter XI

_**Stroke of Midnight**_

_**= Chapter XI =**_

Rolling gongs from scores of bells crashed and chimed like thunder all over the castle as midnight struck.

_Midnight _

"_Remy, Remy I got it!" Anna gasped as she skidded wildly into the room, proclaiming her accomplishment to the figure still propped up in the bed. She bent over her knees and panted, her sweating hands still grasping the precious vial to her chest as the bells continued to strike around and overhead._

_Gradually, the harsh breaths slowed until they stopped altogether. How could one breathe with icy black water filling their lungs with dread?_

_The room, apart from the last fading twelfth chime, was quiet. Far too quiet. The only noise she could hear now was her own faint rasps. Slowly, her bent head lifted to allow her green eyes to behold the bed. Barely discernible ticking from a small clock in the corner tatted out a shaky rhythm that matched her heart._

"_R-Remy?" Anna asked, her voice so small that even she could barely hear it. With weights like chains dragging at her ankles she approached the bed and the figure on it._

_His eyes were closed, the smallest of smiles on his lips. He appeared to be sleeping peacefully. But still the room was too silent, and he was too still._

"_Remy, please…" She reached out a pale-skinned hand to brush at his stubble covered cheek. He wasn't hot anymore. In fact, she felt no warmth against her hand whatsoever. _

_Anna gasped, her heart dropping like a stone and a horrible wrenching in her gut cutting off all breath. "No. No, please no," she moaned. Weakly, almost unconsciously, her hand trailed down to rest on his chest, right where his heart would beat so vibrantly, and so full of life._

_No beat of heart could she find. All she could hear was silence._

"_I'm too late," Anna whispered, unable to think. For a moment that lasted forever, she was numbed to everything. She felt like she was drowning and there would be no surfacing. _

_But she did surface, and when she did, the pain was waiting for her._

_Unable and unwilling to hold it back, a faint yet intense wail of utter anguish escaped her throat, like that of a wounded and lost animal. Her eyes welled with tears that flowed freely down her face. She collapsed forward onto his body, sobs wracking her form. They weren't loud or powerful, but weak, her cries of agony and loss so quiet that even someone standing just outside the room wouldn't have heard. Her body crumpled until she was curled up next to Remy's still form on the bed, disregarding the blood and the body bereft of life. She couldn't face this, not again. She had already lost him twice, first to the arranged marriage and then to the explosion, and when hope had been handed to her once again he had been snatched away before her._

_She buried her face in his shoulder, weeping without shame. Everything inside of her seemed to crack as she realized how still and silent he was. It wasn't right; the Remy she knew was full of energy, excitement, his warmth and young life infecting his surroundings with an aura of mischief and adventure. Now he was fast growing paler than Anna's own white skin, the warmth of his blood stolen away._

_She didn't know how long she was there, minutes or hours, clutching onto him as if by refusing to let him go would bring him back. At some point the tears and sobs had ceased. Now she just stayed trying to capture the last traces of all that he had been: his spicy scent, his warmth, his cockiness, the best friend she had never expected to find…the man she loved._

_Without really thinking about it, Anna at last allowed herself to release the tight grip she held on Remy's body, a shell that no longer held the person she loved more than any other. Instead, she turned to stare at his face, tracing every detail with her eyes._

_He seemed so tranquil, lying as if in a dream. For a moment, he seemed almost beautiful: a picture of mortal life that went silently into the night. The light from a single candle cast a halo of light over him, flushing out the pale of death from his handsome face. His auburn hair gleamed._

_Anna swallowed, a feeling of the most biting, bittersweet sadness filling her. She bent down one last time and captured his still lips with hers. It might have been wrong, or morbid, but this was the last goodbye she would ever bid him. With that last kiss, the last vestiges fell away from the abandoned body, and Remy was gone._

_Anna retreated, a single tear falling onto the still face. __"Adieu mon cœur. Je t'aime." __She fell back, needing to get away from this place before she shattered like glass. Her eyes still locked on him, before she turned and stumbled numbly from the room, leaving her heart behind with him._

I staggered back, falling into the wall as an all-encompassing agony, unlike any I had known before filled me. The weight of it dragged me down to the flagstone floor, dry sobs clenching and unclenching in my chest.

I tried to close my eyes, trying to block this pain somehow, but I could see that night through Anna's eyes. _I_ was her as she curled beside the dead man and let the tears flow. _I _could feel my heart breaking apart piece by piece. There was no escape from it. All I could do was curl in on myself and wait for the awful anguish to pass away. I would do nearly anything to make it stop!

At last the pain, both mine and Anna's, faded. It still throbbed as if my heart was made of brittle ice, but I was no longer crippled by it. I tried to gain a little separation, to gain a little of Kitty back, before this hurt drove me crazy. Was this what it was like to lose the one you loved? I had always wondered what I would ever do if I lost Pete; now I know. I swore to myself on a tangent that Pete and I would die at the same time somehow. It was a stupid wish, but no one, not even my worst enemy, deserved this kind of lonely agony.

I was at last able to concentrate, casting my eyes to the bed. I could see them now; Anna was sitting up, her shoulders slumped in defeat, her broken eyes staring at Remy's body. I could feel my eyes tearing up at the tragic scene. I lowered my eyes; even though Anna and I were somehow linked, I still felt that this moment belonged to her alone. Her heart and soul, ravaged by loss, were laid bare to the world. That was something no outsider should ever see. I turned away, but I could still feel that last kiss that Anna granted Remy. It was the most beautiful and most tragic moment I ever experienced. I didn't need to see their farewell, because it was buried inside of me, and probably would be forever afterward.

Then I felt the feelings fade to be replaced by numbness. My eyes opened. Remy's shape, lying terribly still on the cot, glowed brightly momentarily before fading away into the oblivion of time. Anna's shape remained motionless for a moment before she rose drunkenly and staggered from the room. It was inevitable that I follow her. Anna wasn't a separate entity of a paranormal nature anymore; she was a part of me, like a piece of my soul I had never known before. To be apart from her now seemed wrong, though I couldn't explain why.

My steps fumbled as the waves of pain that were flowing from her into me coursed through me. At last, I had to lean against the stone wall of the tunnel. I covered my eyes with a hand, trying to calm myself.

When I opened my eyes, I froze in confusion. The tunnel looked the same, but I didn't. I stared at my hands. They weren't the soft peach I was used to, but a creamy white with longer fingers. I looked down at a long silver-white dress that brushed silkily on my skin. Auburn locks mixed with white fell in my eyes. I gasped, blinking hard. I was back to normal in my torn and dirtied sweater and boots, my chocolate brown hair clinging in strings to my sweaty forehead. I panted, but I could feel Anna's presence beginning to move on again. All I could do was follow.

_Anna fled through the library, her steps unsteady as she exited in an attempt to get away from the haunting of death behind her. Once again she stood on the top floor of the greenhouse, even more broken than when she had last stood here. _

I leaned against a stone pillar rising from the banisters edging the precipice. My blurred eyes stared down as tears streamed down my face and fell down, down, down to the greenhouse floor. In my blurred vision, I was back in the silvery dress. And this time, I didn't try to deny the intertwining of our minds. I allowed myself to be Anna, because in a way, I was Anna. She was part of me now.

Anna's spirit, using my voice, suddenly cried out loudly in her utter despair. The cry, clear and ringing with her grief, echoed from glass dome to floor. A splinter of lightning accompanied by the crash of thunder overhead punctuated the wail of agony. My head bowed for both of us, with no strength to hold itself up.

_Anna felt the mourning presence with her, but it was little comfort now. Suddenly, she heard footsteps._

"_What de hell d'you t'ink you're doin'? You'll wake everyone in dis castle wit' your noise!"_

_Anna and Kitty, unbeknownst to Anna, looked up, beholding a furious Belladonna stalking towards them. The blonde was wrapped in one of her expensive nightgowns and her golden ringlets fell down her back, bouncing as she flounced toward her distraught sister. She paused when she noticed Anna's sagging form. Her keen blue eyes, trained to see every detail, beheld the smudges of blood on Anna's dress as well as the rose-hip bloom still clutched in her pale hand. Bella's eyes widened and Anna and Kitty knew that she had discovered the answer._

_The younger Assassin woman turned away, tears still falling. "I know y' know Bella. Alright, I loved Remy an' I always will. I found him alive, but it doesn't matter now, not now that he's gone. I don't care if'n ya tell Marius or anyone else. I don't care anymore!" Anna broke down weeping once more. _

_Belladonna remained still, staring with narrowed eyes at her foster sister. Then she approached, laying a red-nailed hand on her sister's shoulder. She spoke with a chiding tone, filled with mock sympathy._

"_I shoulda warned ya that nothin' good ever comes of these kinds of…attraction. But think 'bout it Anna; maybe it's better dis way. Your little romance never woulda worked out, only bringin' ya more pain. Besides, he was only a t'ief. I wouldn't o' married him if our guilds didn't decree it. Maybe dis accident was de best t'ing for everyone."_

_Buried within Anna, seeing everything through her eyes, I could hear what Belladonna was saying. I was Anna and felt her grief, but the knowledge I had still belonged to me, Kitty. I knew the truth. Fury grew inside me as I saw Belle standing there as Remy was nearly crushed to death. Belladonna lied without shame; she knew that this was no accident. This was murder and yet the snake showed no remorse. My white-hot anger burned through me and back through time._

_Anna suddenly felt rage building within her, coming from her invisible companion. She gasped slightly as images, ones she had never witnessed, played before her eyes. Horror consumed her as she stood in the black basement, watching Remy beg for deliverance. That woman…the one she had believed a sister, cursed him and left him to his fate. Belladonna was the reason her love was dead!_

_Bella felt the younger girl stiffen under her hand, before Anna leapt back, striking her hand away. The younger beauty stared appalled at Belle. Her emerald eyes were glazed with tears._

"_Bella, you…you let him die? How could you?"_

_Belle's eyes widened and a twinge of fear stirred in her. How could Anna possibly know that? Bella's shock and silence were all the answer Anna needed. Her fists clenched and she glared through her tears._

"_How could you Bella? He never deserved that!"_

"_Who are you t' say that batard didn't deserve it?" Belladonna screeched unexpectedly, her blue eyes turned to slits with fury and contempt. "Listen hard an' listen good chienne. Dat two-bit thief got everyt'ing dat was comin' to him. I wouldn't let him shame our family, our guild, or me by takin' up with a little Mississippi brat who was never worthy to be part of de Assassin's guild. I'm glad I left Remy t' die, cause you an' he woulda shamed us all, Anna Marie Darkholme!" the woman spat ruthlessly, emphasizing Anna's former last name._

_I shrank away, Anna's hurt and confusion my own. But it didn't last long._

_A new fury, animalistic and without any other emotion, consumed us both. Belladonna was right. Anna was no Boudreaux, and she was no Assassin. She would sooner die than have any connection with this woman that had killed her love and her best friend. Belladonna was not her sister, and she felt no love or remorse for her._

_Anna let loose a shriek of rage and anguish before she lunged for the blonde. Belladonna staggered back. Anna's green eyes were aflame with vengeance, more anger emanating from her than Bella had ever seen. For the first time in a long time, Bella was truly afraid. She tried to step back but Anna was on her in an instant, her delicate and lithe body coursing with a strength that belied belief. Bella cried out as an iron-hard fist crashed into her face, sending them both tumbling back against the glass dome._

_The younger girl was lashing out, her rabid attack relentless. Her fingernails scored scratches that welled blood on Bella's cheeks, and her fists rained down without mercy. She couldn't think and didn't want to. This was for Remy and for herself._

_Bella struggled to get away from the attack. Desperately, she planted her back against the glass wall and lashed out with legs and arms, knocking Anna violently away from her. Anna slammed back hard against the stone banister ringing the huge drop. A sudden crash was heard._

_I felt the banister break beneath me. I, through Anna's eyes, looked up momentarily at Bella's suddenly horrified face, before it disappeared. All I could feel below me was empty air as we fell._

_I watched the raindrops pattering on the glass ceiling of the greenhouse, but the ceiling was moving away from me. I felt like I was suspended in space and time, with all my mortal worries dropping away the farther I fell. The feeling of flight filled me entirely. It was so exciting. I was free now! Free of troubles and desires, free of…life? The last thoughts that passed through my mind were wistful yet content._

"_Oh Remy, I wish you could be free with me."_

_Then darkness slammed down over my eyes forever._

_._

_Belladonna stared dumbstruck at the crumbled gap in the stone parapet through which Anna had disappeared. Then, an awful feeling enclosed her chest._

_She had killed Anna. No, not Anna, her __**sister**__. Despite what she had just said, deep down, she had thought of Anna as a sibling even if they didn't get along. For a moment her harsh words spoken out of envy and pride rang in her ears. Tears suddenly sprung to her blue eyes as she truly realized what she had done, and a sob escaped her._

"_Oh Anna, je suis désole. __I'm so sorry!" She dropped her head of tangled hair into her hands and sank to the floor, not daring to crawl to the precipice and see her sister's broken and bleeding remains five stories below. The awful weight of the past couple of days finally descended, and the guilt of Remy's death overtook her as well. Bella bowed her head and wept. Assassin she may be, but she was still human. What had she done?_

_Her hand fell from her face and to the floor, where her hand brushed paper. Through watering eyes, Belle saw a folded note. It must have fallen from Anna's dress pocket as they fought. She opened it. It was Anna's third farewell letter._

_Remy,_

_I should have been firm enough to end this relationship when we found out that you are engaged to with my sister. I'm sorry I wasn't. So, I'm doing that now. The letter you are reading now is my goodbye letter. Obey your fate, and live your life as it was destined. Our desires do not matter._

_Farewell._

_Anna_

_Bella stared at it, the guilt intensifying inside of her. She had never thought that it was this serious between them._

_Sighing wearily, Bella leaned back against the glass wall holding the letter. She realized no one could know about this now. It wasn't for her reputation only anymore. If the guilds found out about the affair, then both young people's memories would be tarnished and shamed forever. They didn't deserve that, like they didn't deserve the fates she had condemned them to. Bella stared at the words again, an idea to preserve her sister's honor forming in her mind. She would carry the weight of her guilt and remorse for the rest of her life; it would be her punishment, but this was the least she could do. It wasn't much, but Anna deserved to be remembered._

"_Je suis désole Anna," Belladonna whispered again as the rain fell like heaven's tears._

~.~.~.~.~

It was like surfacing suddenly from under deep and icy water, as air rushed into my lungs and my heart leapt to life.

My blue eyes shot open and I bolted into a sitting position, my lungs filling with fresh cold air. My hands flew over my body, confirming that I was not dead and broken. I was still alive, and Kitty again. I couldn't feel Anna's presence within me anymore. The small hole inside my soul confirmed it.

I then realized that I was wet, sitting on hard ground slick with chilly water. I was outside at the gate of the cemetery once more, not knowing how I got there. I stood, ignoring the sopping wetness in my clothes as the skies continued to weep upon this place of tragedy.

"_Anna, why?" _The ghostly whisper drew my attention toward the one, lonely gravestone nestled among the mourning flowers outside the graveyard fence. I beheld Remy, pale and alone, hunched beside the headstone like he had at the start of my adventure. In his hand he still held the piece of paper. I approached slowly, craning to see what it was. It was Anna's farewell note, but it was folded into a small square, a new and much shorter message scrawled on it hastily.

_Dear Remy,_

_Please read this only after I am gone. We were not meant to be together in this life._

I wasn't sure whether this had been written while Anna lived, or if it was some other world dictation, but I could feel the pain it was causing Remy. This ghost felt different. He seemed more real than any shade I had seen in the castle before. I wondered if this was Remy's actual spirit, instead of the mechanical copies inside that reenacted the past. Instead of frightening me, I felt sadness deep inside. He had lingered here for so many years, waiting for his love like he had promised, but not finding her. I stepped away as the ghost continued to lament his past life and love.

I cast my eyes to the grave, and then back towards where Remy sat reading the letter over and over. Then I realized something: Bella's plan. The grave outside the cemetery, the hidden note…it was all made to look as though Anna had committed suicide. It may not have been honorable and had earned her an isolated resting place, but it would ensure Anna the proper burial and remembrance her adopted family owed her. Perhaps Bella told them that Anna's love was unrequited, or the death of her dear friend had pushed her to it, that caused her to end her life. I wasn't sure. But as I watched Remy, I knew that somehow his ghost believed also that she had taken her own life. He believed she had gone on without him.

I wondered how I could make him realize that Anna was still here, trying to reach him but unable to.

My eyes caught on something shining and I turned. Pink sparks, like tiny rose-colored stars, were drifting like shining dust motes through the air.

The single rose hip flower that had persevered on the skeleton shrub of its birth was swaying gently in the rain and wind. The sparks dripped down the perfect petals like droplets, and then danced slowly through the air in a gleaming trail. That trail ended at Anna's headstone, the glinting dots lighting up newly revealed words carved in the stone.

_**Anna Marie Darkholme Boudreaux**_

_**1845-1864**_

_**True Love is Beyond Life and Death.**_

_**It is Forever.**_

I stared for a moment, before slowly reaching down. I broke the rose hip bloom from its lonely perch and approached the grave. Kneeling down, I stared at the grave, rereading the inscription, before I placed the flower into a small vase resting at the stone's base.

Behind me in the castle, clock chimes began.

_Midnight_

_Remy leaned against the grave, the letter clutched in his hand as his gaze traveled to the mountains and beyond to the moonlit horizon._

_He remembered waking up in that lonely room, no sound to be heard. He had ascended into the castle, finding everything different. The smell of the air, the sounds he remembered, were muted and garbled. He had passed people, but they weren't so much people to him anymore. They didn't acknowledge his presence or hear when he tried to speak to one of them. They all seemed so sad._

_He hadn't cared much. All the things that he had cared about or worried about before didn't matter anymore. He had but one purpose now: he had said he would wait._

_But she never came. He searched for her, wandering outside the castle and towards the cemetery. There he had found a gathering, separated into two groups. One stood inside the graveyard, weeping over a young man's body with long copper hair and a handsome, pale face. He had recognized some among the mourners: the tall man with his pregnant wife as they both shed tears together, and the little old woman muttering prayers. But he was interested in the gathering outside the cemetery._

_He watched as both blonde men and their women bid the newly set headstone goodbye, before heading to console the other group. Only the beautiful blonde remained as she knelt before the headstone. He watched her brush her hand over the stone, whispering a sorrowful farewell, choked with regret. She dropped something at the foot of the grave before rising and leaving._

_He approached. The letter, faded with the colors of the world he was no longer truly a part of, grew clearer to him. He picked it up and read it. His body may have been descending into the earth at that moment, but the emotions of the man he had been still remained. The moment he read those words, sorrow was his only companion. She had left without him._

_Time had passed, though he was hardly aware of it. He watched as the people he knew bid hushed goodbyes to the lords of this castle and left; he never saw them again. He wandered the halls day after day until all life left it, the castle becoming silent and empty. Yet he was still there, traversing every hallway and room from dawn until dusk. But when night fell, he would exit the stone walls and walk to that lonely grave. He went every night, searching for her and mourning until sunrise when he wouldn't find her waiting there. Then he would sit, dreaming of her, and also of a city and home he could barely remember. And so days and nights had passed in an endless river that flowed past him, always leaving him behind._

_Tonight was like any other night: he had spent the hours of sunlight traveling back and forth through the castle: his old room, her room, the old lab, the dining hall, the greenhouse, the library, the ballroom, and the room where he had taken his last breaths. He never found anything, but could never stop walking. Then as night crept over the mountains and cast its shadow over the castle, he had left to take his usual position at the foot of her grave._

_Rain fell, but it couldn't touch him, nor did he care. His eyes were ever searching for the one to whom he had promised to wait, hoping endlessly that she would appear._

_The immortal clocks began to chime midnight once again and he sighed, lowering his head. That was when he saw the flower. Her flower. Their flower. Then a light began to shine._

"_Remy."_

_Remy looked up and saw her._

_Midnight_

I watched as Remy's ghost slowly lifted his head, his eyes widening as he beheld Anna, resplendent in a pure-white gown. Her hair shone like fire and snow, and her eyes sparkled like summer stars. Tears were running down the spirit's face, but it was also lit with an angelic smile as she reached out to him once more. There was no longer sadness in this gesture, only pure joy.

Remy stood, color flooding back into his form and a new radiance shining from him. I watched as he approached Anna's image, his eyes wide but soft. His voice, unlike the echoing timber of the images inside the castle, was full and rich, with an otherworldly tone that sent shivers of awe running down my spine.

"I waited for you Anna," he said as he stood before her.

She smiled, a hint of sadness there, but still overwhelmed with new happiness. "I know. But no more. No more waitin'."

He smiled back at her, and they joined hands. Their auras suddenly began to glow, filling everything around them with a warm and gentle light. It steadily grew stronger and stronger. I shut my eyes, but not because of the brightness. A radiance of utter purity and glory was growing, too heavenly for the people of this world and life to witness. It was as if the gates of heaven itself were opening before me. Joy, in the utmost sense of the word, flooded through my veins, until I fell to the ground.

The last thing I heard from the two lovers was Anna's laugh, which sang out like an angel's hymn to the stars.

~.~.~.~.~

Sunlight passed through closed eyelids. Slowly, Kitty blinked her blue eyes open.

The sky outside of the bed chamber window was a clear blue with not a cloud to be seen. Melodic birdsong drifted in through the windows.

Kitty sat up in bed confused. She didn't remember returning to her bed. She looked down at herself. Her clothes, which should have been torn, muddied, rumpled and damp, were perfectly fine. The sweater she had been wearing on her adventure was still folded in her travel bag and her shoes sat by the door.

"_Was it all just a dream?"_ Kitty jumped from the bed and went first to the mirror. There were no fiery letters suspended in the glass. She searched the room: the jewelry box where she had found the rose hip bloom was not on the window sill, and the scraps of Anna's letters were gone from the dresser drawer.

Kitty sat down, staring at her bedside table where her notebook rested. According to her dream, she had lost track of it somewhere between the ballroom and the greenhouse, yet here it sat as real as anything. Sighing, she picked it up and flipped through the empty pages. She couldn't quite believe it had all been a dream, but the evidence stood as she placed the notebook back down.

Kitty stared out the window silently for a few minutes, before slipping on her boots and exiting the room. The castle, though less gloomy in the light of day, was just as dusty and abandoned as it had been when she first entered the castle. The former grandeur she had witnessed was all gone.

She pushed open the heavy front doors, breathing in the fresh air. Unconsciously her feet guided her over the grounds. The gardens sparkled in the sunlight, as if a blanket of crystals had been laid over the landscape overnight.

Kitty rounded the castle, the cemetery coming into view. It was actually kind of a peaceful place in the light of day. Her feet guided her unerringly towards that one lonely headstone. Kitty froze.

Inside the little green vase at the headstone's base, the perfect little rose hip nodded happily in the morning breeze. Leaning up against the stone behind the vase, was her notebook which she had left behind in her room.

"I knew it," Kitty breathed as she strode forward eagerly, her steps slapping hurriedly over the flagstones of the path. She picked up the notebook. When she opened it this time, every page was filled with a neat and beautiful calligraphy. The whole story was there waiting for her.

Kitty sat on the headstone, smiling. She stared into the sky, and just for a moment, felt a familiar presence whisper past her before dancing with the wind back into the sky. She turned her eyes back to the filled notebook. There was room for a few more words.

Pulling a pen from her jacket pocket Kitty wrote her last sentences in her own curly script.

_Though they could not be together in life, Anna and Remy's spirits could now spend an eternity together in rest. Such is the way of these tales: true love is beyond life and death._

_It is forever._

Kitty closed the notebook with a snap, her eyes closed and her blissfully smiling face turned toward the steadily rising sun.

"This is going to be my best book yet, I know it. I can't wait to share it with the world."


	12. Chapter XII Epilogue

**This chapter isn't strictly necessary to the story, but I wrote it for certain reviewers I knew would enjoy it. Wolf skater, this one's for you. I hope you all enjoyed this story as much as I loved writing it.**

_**Stroke of Midnight**_

_**= Chapter XII =**_

_**Epilogue**_

"Congratulations Kitty!" squealed Jubilee, pushing through the crowd of excited customers. The book store was packed as people lined up to get their copies of _The Stroke of Midnight _signed by the author. Kitty smiled at the closely packed knot of her friends that had come to congratulate her on the success of her best novel yet. Pete stood behind her, smiling proudly as he pulled her in and laid a gentle kiss on her hair.

Tabitha made her way to the front of their group. "Okay girl, we are all going out and toasting your big bang of stardom at La Villa de Sol tonight. It's mandatory so don't try and get out of it. We'll celebrate with breadsticks and endless pasta." The group, including Jubilee, Bobby, Amara, and Jean and Scott all agreed heartily.

"It's the least we can do Kitty. You deserve it." Jean smiled as Rachel pulled at her mother's bright red hair. Scott grinned as he tried to disengage Nathan from his death grip on his father's leg.

Kitty waved her hand. "Oh all right. I could use a break from all the hustle and bustle."

"I'll say," came a voice from the rear of the group. "Are you sure these people aren't here to mob you? I could barely get through the door."

"Wanda!" Kitty called excitingly, pushing through the group to embrace her friend. "How did you get here? You and John live all the way out in Detroit!"

John, who stood beside his long-time girlfriend, smirked at her. "We flew sheila, how else would we get here?" He ducked as Kitty sent the customary slap at him. It was their version of a welcoming handshake.

"How could we miss your giant success?" Wanda clarified. "We took vacations early and flew out to celebrate with you. Plus, there's no way we were missing La Villa de Sol."

"Thanks," Kitty smiled. She glanced around at her crowd of friends. "I'll be done with the book signing in about an hour, so you guys can all just kill time until I'm finished, okay?" They all agreed, gave her hugs or fist bumps in farewell and the group filed out of the bookstore.

Kitty sighed happily, with a hint of wistfulness. She would never be able to tell them about the fantastical experience that she had had in Romania, and it was a pity. She wished she could share with them the wonder, love, suspense, and sorrow that were forever a part of her now, but it was her secret to bear to the grave.

Kitty was about to return to the table where she signed the books, when her attention was caught on the opposite side of the crowded bookstore. Her eyes widened.

Two people stood there, a man and a woman. Kitty didn't even try to fool herself. They were just too familiar.

The handsome man, tall and lanky with long auburn hair, bent down to whisper in his girlfriend's ear. His eyes were a simple chestnut brown, but his chiseled face accentuated with stubble was unmistakable. The girl nodded, before putting the book she had been looking at back on the shelf. She then turned around so Kitty could see her clearly.

There were no white stripes in her hair, and she was dressed in modern clothing, but the pale skin and piercing green eyes were as familiar to Kitty as her own face. All she could do was stare blankly.

For a brief instant, the girl's peridot eyes met Kitty's. They didn't hold any recognition, but it took Kitty's breath away nonetheless. For a moment they both froze, until the auburn haired beauty let a small yet friendly smile cross her face. It was general enough, but Kitty thought that the girl's expression held something so deeply buried that even the girl herself wasn't aware of it. Kitty thought she saw a trace of gratitude in that happy smile.

Then the girl turned away and exited the shop, her left hand clasped with her boyfriend's right. The bell above the door jingled as it closed behind them, the tails of the boyfriend's trench coat whipping free just before it shut.

Kitty stared after them, motionless. She had known more unnatural things in the past year than many people could boast of in their lifetimes. But this, although uncanny, didn't feel paranormal or strange. It felt right. The words inscribed at the end of her book, and on a headstone outside a Romanian castle far away, really were true. True love was forever.

The young author smiled peacefully, as the hole in her chest that had been there since she had returned six months ago filled with quiet contentment. "Go in peace Anna. You're free."

A laugh, bright and clear as the ringing of silver chimes striking midnight, echoed down the sunny street and into the endless springtime sky.

_**The End**_

And it's over! :'( But still, it feels so wonderful to finish a story. I'm glad that I wrote it and I'm glad you all read it. Can I beg that you don't hate me for how this turned out? I don't like it that they died either, but the story seemed crappy if I tried to change it. I think I made a good resolution in this chapter. And next time, I'll try a nice cheery Romy story that won't have you guys begging me to let them live, how does that sound? Anyway, I had a great run and a great time. Ciao

Wolf skater – Weeelll, technically Remy did die, but I pulled some strings just for you. Plus, I got a nice fluffy feeling when I wrote this chapter, so I'm glad I did. Please don't hunt me down!

Lady Firewing – Thank you for being such a great reviewer, both you and Wolf skater, and I hope the ending was to your enjoyment. I feel so sad now that it's over, but happy with myself at the same time. I had a blast writing this. Looking forward to how DC2 turns out and thanking you for all of your cherished reviews.

XcrimsonroseX – I don't know what happened to your review, since it won't show up on the web page. Thankfully, I have it in my email inbox.

You jumped into the loop just in time if you ask me! You only have to wait for one more update before the story is finished, and you read it just after I got finished with my little hiatus. I'm glad you liked the story so much!


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